When Mountains Crumble
by Lady Dusk
Summary: Artemis Entreri is gravely ill... but he manages to survive with the help of Jarlaxle and a favor from an old friend of the drow. In repaying the monstrous debt, the assassin finds himself on a longer path than he bargained for...
1. Beneath the Falling Sky

Chapter 1: Beneath the Falling Sky…

The dark elf trudged along the muddy street, making for the mountain far into the distance. _How much longer?_ He wondered for perhaps the thousandth time. Judging the distance was fairly close to impossible, for the rain that steadily fell made a thick curtain in front of his view. And to his dismay, there was no one on the street who could tell him how far he had to go. His heritage didn't help him any, though the people of the small town he was passing through had indeed met with one other of his race.

Nor did his flamboyant clothing lend him any support from the people. An enormous wide brimmed hat sat atop his bald head, with a curving red plume tucked into the band. His cape, though thoroughly soaked by this time, shimmered and seemed to shift its color almost constantly.

Jarlaxle Baenre was indeed a curious sight, made even more odd and out of place by the pallid looking human male at his side (who he had to prop up to keep from falling over at times)... and the fact that, despite the pouring rain, he was still pressing on toward that mountain. Any person with a fraction of a working mind would have sought food and a warm place to sleep by then. Unless that person knew, as Jarlaxle did, that the man at his side had one hope of survival and not much time. That hope was in the form of a maiden he knew, high up on that mountain.

Or so the drow had last known the lady to be living. Now he had only to hope that his sources were still up to date on the whereabouts of his powerful friend.

_She must still be there! What reason would she have to leave?_ Jarlaxle thought, more for motivation than to find an answer. _One of her morphing spells would do us well right now...if I could appear human, perhaps we could acquire mounts. I could send..._ and in looking at his companion, he heaved a slight sigh; a healing spell would be far better suited to their situation. And that was just the reason the drow had to get to his friend as quickly as possible. He needed her considerable magic, to heal the sickness that had overtaken his traveling companion. The journey had not begun as so, but it seemed it was how it needed to be for the time. The man walking beside him turned his gaze once more. He was scowling again, in Jarlaxle's direction.

And when Artemis Entreri turned that awful scowl your way, it was usually wise to find out why, and change whatever ired him... unless you already knew, and knew too that he could not do much to you anyway.

The man was incredibly pale, close to the color of Jarlaxle's eyebrows by then, all except for his flushed cheeks. His shoulder length jet black hair (with a bit of gray in his sideburns showing up) was plastered to his sharp features, his entire body shook from the cold... and something else. The man was horribly sick, and quite soon to die if something could not be done.

A plague had enveloped many of the humans of Faerun. It seemed to begin as a simple cold. Then there came a high fever, and at this stage, many of those affected died. The survivors, however, had to suffer through an uncontrollable shaking. They frequently coughed up large amounts of blood, and they were always very weak. The afflicted humans could not get much food down their swollen throats.

Artemis Entreri, king of assassins, was certainly human (though at times, he seemed so far beyond). And now, he was certainly quite unhappy about it. Thus lie his anger at Jarlaxle. Entreri wanted the dark elf to allow him to end this miserable existence, for there was no cure, not even a temporary one, to the plague he now had. He knew not of the drow's plans, or why he would not just let the man at least find a dark hole to die in... alone, and left with some measure of dignity.

_ There is no dignity in that fate, man! Not when there is almost surely another way! _Jarlaxle, practically reading Entreri's mind, wanted to scream at him. Jarlaxle held a great deal of respect for the man. The fate the sickened human desired was not at all what he deserved, in Jarlaxle's mind. He had so much farther to come. Though he was undeniably older, perhaps losing a bit of his speed, the drow mercenary knew that there was so much more potential in him. Though, at the time, Jarlaxle wondered if he would soon have to carry the assassin.

And before the assassin had gotten sick, Jarlaxle had remembered a person who could stop his aging! It could even be reversed considerably, he knew. This had been the original purpose of their journey. Jarlaxle had a very old and very close friend who could cast aside the only thing that stood in Artemis Entreri's way. Or, so it had been the only thing in his way.

Now with this plague... he was nearly sure that the most powerful creature he had ever encountered could heal that. Well, he was... marginally sure, anyhow.

It was the "almost", the "nearly sure", that bothered Jarlaxle. He knew not if his friend could heal Entreri entirely. Just as he was almost sure that his friend was still living where she had been for so very long. But if she had gone home, and was not at her house on that mountain, the assassin would indeed be doomed.

* * *

A small elven boy watched out his window as Jarlaxle and Entreri went by. He was only about five years old, and the look on his sweet little face was a typical expression of curiosity. Though, his curiosity mixed in with a bit of sadness. It was the strange dark elf that brought his curiosity, and the obviously sick man who the drow walked with brought his sadness. The child wanted nothing more than to help these two, for the boy found something else obvious. They, at least one of them, anyway, needed help. If not, why then were they walking in the rain? Why was the drow trying to keep the man moving like this when it would be much better to find shelter from the cold rain?

The young elven boy had seen one dark elf before and that one had been very kind, indeed. The drow had passed through the town some time ago with a small band of four others. (Who were no less noticeable that he!) That particular drow elf also had a huge panther companion at times, and during his pass, he had even let the curious child pat the beautiful creature! The boy thought that if one surface dwelling drow was so very kindly, then maybe another was as well.

He slipped on his little cloak, opened up his window and crept half way out. Secure that no one had awakened, for he would surely be punished if discovered outside so late (to help out a strange dark elf, no less), he slid down to the muddy ground outside. The rain had slowed greatly, and with his newly learned use of the infravision he possessed, the child spotted and followed the pair with little difficulty.

Jarlaxle, hearing footsteps behind he and Entreri, silently cursed his luck. He hadn't wanted to attract any attention at all. Though there was only one pair of feet to be heard, and their owner made a very small attempt at keeping quiet. Perhaps the person meant to leave them be. Jarlaxle had begun to turn around to greet the one following them. Entreri, on the other hand, held his dagger readied (and it was trembling quite a bit, despite the man's effort to stay it) and cocked to throw.

"No my friend. Our passing will be much slower and much more difficult if we leave behind a trail of bodies!" Whispered the mercenary, pushing down the assassin's dagger arm.

"If I am to be killed, I should wish to take my share down with me!" Entreri replied. He was still with his back to their follower, moving for Charon's Claw with his free arm. It seemed that he hoped more were to come if this one were killed. Many more, the assassin hoped, for perhaps those many would end his pain.

Jarlaxle then turned the man around, to face a frightened looking elven boy-child. The drow motioned for Entreri to put away the dagger and leave Charon's Claw in its sheath. He complied (had no choice, really) and slumped to a large rock on the side of the street, nearly overtaken by a wave of dizziness. Jarlaxle walked closer to the boy, palms out wide in front of him. He certainly did not want to send the little one screaming off to alert the whole town!

"Hello." The child said, calming a bit from Jarlaxle's unthreatening posture. "Jeaden... I, well, tha's my name, anyhow. I saw that your friend there's pretty sick... and you look like you've gotta be someplace real fast." Then, tentatively, he whispered to the drow. "Can I help?"

Jarlaxle was about to send the child away, but figuring the boy to be the only help they would find, he nodded. He went a little closer, and crouched down to face Jeaden.

"Have you ever been on the mountain, over that way?" The drow gestured, and Jeaden nodded, so eager to be of help. Jarlaxle figured that the boy would have no inkling to the answer of his next question, but asked it anyway. "Do you know of a woman who lives up there? She's little... a bit shorter than I, with the greenest eyes you shall ever behold..."

"What's the lady's name?" The boy asked, with a sparkle hinting recognition in his eyes. Jarlaxle raised one white eyebrow to regard the child.

"Her name is Dusk. Dusk..." Jarlaxle's words died in his throat as the Jeaden's face sprouted the biggest smile the drow had ever witnessed, just before the child burst out excitedly...

"AUNTIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Yeah, yeah, I know her! Tha's my Auntie Dusk!" He then seemed to realize how loud he had just been, and looked, a bit sheepishly, to Jarlaxle. (Who was looking around nervously, hoping no one had been awakened.)

"Well, she's not really my aunt... we all just call her that. All us kids do. I can take you to her!" He said happily, taking Jarlaxle by the arm and then looking around wide-eyed, as if just noticing how late it must be. "Oh, wait... I don think I can now."

"That's all right, Jeaden. You have been a great help!" Said the mercenary, seeing the child's almost crestfallen look. "We thank you. Now you head for home, and you must tell no one of our meeting. Understood?"

The boy grinned again. "I can do better than that! I'll get horses! I get ta take care of my big cousint's horses while he's gone and it's just me that takes care of them, so you can borrow 'em, since you know my Auntie Dusky! Nobady'll ever know they're gone. Ya just have to get her to bring 'em back when you get to her, kay? She's got lots a neat stuff... ooh, and medicine! I just know she can help your friend over there! I 'member lots a times when I got sick she made me allllllll better! And then one time MOMMY got real sick, and then..." And so Jeaden babbled on, Jarlaxle in tow.

Entreri made no move to get off his rock to follow, just simply shook his head. The little child had far too much energy in the middle of the night for him to tolerate. He rubbed at his temple, trying to be rid of the headache that had formed there. Though, the assassin thought he had heard the boy talking about someone who could cure him.

_Perhaps_, Entreri thought, _I should rest. If I am awake to hear that insane child still running his mouth when they get back ..._ A rare grin (even rarer these days, for he never truly had the urge to grin lately) found his face. Jarlaxle was a painful thorn in his side at times, but he was quite adept at finding allies. With that, Artemis Entreri leaned back on the rock and closed his eyes, but only after coughing up what seemed to be most of his lungs.

* * *

"But then, ya know, I never found that boot of mine. So my Auntie, ya know what she did? She just looked at me for a minute an' told me to watch the table, an' then POOF! There was another boot just esactally like the one my stupid mean 'ol smelly 'ol sister lost on me. It was just POP, just right there, an' it fit just like the other one and everything! Isn't' that the neatest thing you ever heard?!" Jeaden said with excitement, finishing a story he had been telling Jarlaxle.

The elven child had just saddled up one of the horses and the mercenary worked on the second. He really had little clue whether or not he was doing it correctly. The drow had only to hope that Jeaden would tell him before he started yet another story. Though the little elf was practically driving him mad, Jarlaxle was amused at his seemingly boundless energy and his exhaustless stream of jabber.

As Jarlaxle finished with the second horse (with a few quick adjustments from Jeaden), he looked to the boy to thank him and send him home. He was thoroughly surprised when he saw the little one gearing up a third mount, this one a young pony. It looked as though he planned to come along.

Jeaden saw the stern look on Jarlaxle's face, and knew what he was about to say. (He had learned to read such looks very well, since he got them from his parents all the time.)

"You think you're gonna make me go home, don't chya?" The child said matter-of-factly. He paused, and then smiled. "You're gonna need somebody to bring you to her house..." Jarlaxle started to shake his head. "And even if you already know the way, who's gonna go get her if your friend falls off his horse, or something bad happens? He is all wobbly leggded and all, ya know. An' if she's not in the house I know esactally where she goes, an' I can find her easy."

Jarlaxle sighed and chewed his bottom lip. Jeaden was right, he knew. But this could become a problem. If he allowed the boy to come along, the little one would be found missing the next morning. (That was, if it had not already been discovered that he was gone.) But if the boy's mother knew Dusk like his stories suggested, then his absence and that of the horses could be taken care of.

"All right then, come along." Jarlaxle said with another sigh. "But..." he said, seeing the huge grin return, "You must be as quiet as you can. Which means no more long stories until sunrise, at least. My friend..." speaking of Entreri now; "...can be rather grumpy, shall I say. And he's never been fond of children. Do you understand?"

"Uh hu uh hu! And don't worry about your grumpy pal, I won't bug him bad. He can even go to sleep on the horse if he wants to! They're really well trained, and they'll follow us right along and walk reeeeeeeal gentle. Oh, I'll be good and quiet too, kay? No more story from me!"

Jarlaxle looked curiously at Jeaden, wondering how much energy the boy had stored in that little body of his. And he wondered, too, how long this night would be for him.

* * *

Entreri sat up from his rock and rubbed his head again. He heard the sound of hoof beats coming his way and heard, too, the excited whisper of an elven child. He listened to the hoof beats again, quickly coming to realize that there were three sets of them. He heard Jarlaxle shush the boy... something with a J, his name was... and two horses came toward him.

"Why a third horse? The child cannot walk back without the beast's company?" Entreri asked, and slowly opened his eyes. There was Jarlaxle on one horse, holding the reins of another out to him. He held them out with that tell-tale smug look on his face, nodded backward to direct the man's gaze behind him... to the little elven boy, his little pony fully outfitted to ride through the night.

Entreri glared at the mercenary, liking his chuckle even less than that grin.

"You are not the brightest creature I have met, you know that don't you?" Said Entreri.

Jarlaxle only grinned at him, beckoned to the riderless horse and gave the reins over to the man. Entreri shook his head, groaned at the pain it caused and would have fallen over if he had not the horse to lean on for a moment. With some amount of effort, he managed to swing one leg over the horse's back and settled himself into the saddle.

"After you, my _abbril_! I insist!" Entreri hissed at Jarlaxle, his gray eyes burning. Again the drow only chuckled, walked the horse along while telling Jeaden (who was all the while smiling) to lead the way.

* * *

A seemingly young woman stood on the rail of her balcony. She looked up to the sky, smiled as a cool breeze brushed her beautiful face and past the strange tattoo beneath her left eye. The breeze ruffled through her thigh length hair and sent a slight shiver down her back. She let out a contented sigh, slipping off the thin gown she wore. She let the wind take it back into the doors behind her and looked down to the lake below. The moonlight had put everything into grayish tones. Anyone witnessing the strange sight would have seen her as nothing but a shadow.

Of course there was no one around, the woman knew. Not yet at least. She had felt that visitors were coming for the past few days now. They were drawing nearer with the passing of each hour. Travelers passed by her home all the time, though this feeling was quite different. She had the distinct knowledge that whoever came on their way were no ordinary band of travelers. These beings pressed onward through the night to see her, but she was not yet sure of whatever business pressed them on so. And so she asked the night wind.

"Who comes to me, old friend? Tis much too late for the elves." She whispered to the wind, speaking of a particular family she knew. "No, they would have waited for morning, no matter how urgent their business. But who, then?" She said, more to herself than the wind. Her voice echoed with her every word, the extra resonance not coming of the terrain around her. They echoed as they were spoken, giving them an almost hypnotic quality.

She sighed again, wondering, and looked again to the lake. The balcony she stood on was quite high, but she prepared to leap from it anyway. It didn't really matter, anyhow. The lake below her was very deep, she knew, and that pleased her more than a little. She tampered down the considerable muscle in her legs, got up on her toes and sprung. She smiled and shut her eyes as she felt herself drop from the balcony, nothing but the cool, deep water to stop her fall. Just before she hit the water, she laughed, and opened her eyes...

How their deep green did shine through the moonlight's gray.


	2. The Cover of Dusk

Chapter 2: The Cover of Dusk

Jeaden lead a fairly swift pace through the night, and the small, improbable band made good time up the mountain. Jarlaxle looked back to Entreri, who had not slept at all. It was not the fact that he didn't need to sleep, but that his head continued to throb. On top of that, he was shaking harder than before, his vision blurred from the fever. The mercenary chewed his lip again, doubtful.

"How much longer do you think it will take to get to your Aunt, little one?" He asked Jeaden, more to take his mind from Entreri's doleful state than for need of an answer.

The boy pondered for a moment, and then; "Only 'bout an hour, I think. But I never rode all night before, so we could be closer!" Jarlaxle noted the excitement creeping back into the child's voice and wondered again about where he got his energy. He had thought the boy to be tiring earlier that morning, for he was mercifully silent for a few hours. _I suppose I was wrong..._ Thought the drow. He realized that Jeaden was still very much awake and still very talkative.

But, as the boy had said, they did seem much closer. Jarlaxle had started to recognize landmarks around them, particularly a certain copse of trees. Dusk liked to hide there and jump on him during the rare occasions he got to visit. But she was apparently not there now... it would have been better if she had been there to jump on him, like most other times. She could heal Entreri then and there, if the mercenary asked her. Looking back at the man once again, he knew that such a healing would be needed very soon.

And, in his contemplation of how long the man had left, Jarlaxle didn't notice Jeaden. The boy was now looking around warily, cocking his head to the side and sniffing at the air.

Jarlaxle's horse stopped to paw at the ground. He snapped up his head at that, and heard a slight ruffle from the trees. That sound, that slight ruffle, he suspected, was not from the wind. And the mercenary's suspicions were confirmed soon after.

Entreri could hardly see anymore and had begun to shake so much that he could not sit aright atop his horse. Along with this, he was so much dizzier, absolutely exhausted and had not eaten anything at all in two days. The pain in his head finally shoved him into blackness, and he let it take him. The assassin fell from his horse.

With the last of his coherence, he rolled away from the horse with the fall, managing not to break his neck. At least a dozen arrows thudded into the ground where Entreri had originally fallen, fired from about that number of different places.

Jarlaxle snapped his head around and mouthed a silent curse.

"Get away from here boy! Go get your Aunt, go NOW!" Jarlaxle screamed to Jeaden while leaping off his mount, listening to the fast running hoof beats of the boy's pony. He snapped out a sword from his belt, dodging and knocking aside the arrows that flew his way with a deadly accuracy. He looked to the trees, to discern the identity of the attackers, and cursed in every language he had time to before the next wave of arrows came at him.

How he wished he still had his hand crossbow! His attackers were, as he had feared, a band of elves. Apparently, the missing elven child had not gone unnoticed. And of course, since he was a dark elf wandering about with the missing child, the surface elves that now fired at him mercilessly had it in their minds that Jarlaxle had kidnapped the boy.

Some of the elves had started jumping down from the trees. Three of them began to circle Jarlaxle, each with a beautifully made sword in hand. The drow didn't want to have to kill them, but the elves pressed him to action. They slashed at him, trying to get him to react. Surface elves wouldn't kill a being, even a drow elf, if he had not made the first attack.

"Now listen to me! I know what you're all thinking, but the child Jeaden came on his own accord! I tried to send him home, but he insisted that he guide my companion and I..." He pointedly looked where Entreri was not, trying to lend the man a bit of safety. "…To a friend of mine who lives on this very mountain. Now, we have not knowingly caused any harm to you or any of your people. Why, do you not know of Drizzt Do'Urden? How could you possibly mistake..." Jarlaxle tried to reason, but was cut off by another arrow. It shot off his huge hat.

Though the surface elves didn't know it, they had just made a dire mistake.

Jarlaxle, very angry at the treatment of his hat, leapt into the air. He spun over one very surprised elf's head and enacted his levitation spell. The drow started firing daggers at the knees of the three elves that had tried to surround him, and at the three standing back a ways. Two of them clutched at their knees, and hobbled off. One other hit in the shoulder tried to aim his bow with his still functioning arm. It failed, even more miserably when Jarlaxle threw a dagger into his other shoulder.

Jarlaxle felt his levitation start to let go and dropped himself into a roll. He looked one last time to where Entreri had been and saw, as he had thought, that the assassin was nowhere to be found. With that, he ran with all speed up the hill, the remaining surface elves still firing at him.

* * *

Jeaden came to the top of the hill. He ran his mount at full speed through the thick copse of trees and through a curtain of vines from a nearby willow. Seeing the large house looming only a few yards before him, he stopped the pony and leapt off towards the house.

He burst in the door, not bothering to knock, yelling; "Auntie! Auntie Dusky where are ya?" He ran around the house a moment and, getting no answer, he ran out the back door. Still running, he went down through the yard behind the house. There was a lake there, he knew, and if Dusk was ever not in the house, she was in the lake. He kneeled down by the lake's side. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, seemingly to the lake itself.

"Dusky, come quick! Auntie, hurry, we need you fast!" A moment later, Jeaden snapped his head to the side upon hearing a voice.

There was his aunt, elbows up on the bank of the lake, only a few feet away from him. Her long, long curly red hair stuck to her pale skin and swirled around her in the water. A warm smile made its way onto her lovely full lips. The woman's green eyes smiled at the boy, as well.

"Hello little one! I hadn't expected to see you until next week... though, what has gone so horribly wrong that it sent you yelling all the way down here?" She asked, noting the troubled look on his face.

"Well I brought you some friends and I'll tell ya all bout it later, but now they're in trouble 'an all the elves came 'an now they're shootin' at them 'an Mister Jarlaxle tol' me to ride up here to get you 'an..." Jeaden said, almost too fast to comprehend for one who was not used to the boy's babble.

"Mister who? Did you just say Jarlaxle, child?" The woman asked, surprised, her eyes wide and shining an impossible shade of green. Seeing Jeaden's nod, she told the boy; "Meet me out on the front landing and move not a step until I bid you!"

The boy ran back up to the house. Dusk waited for him disappear around the other side of the house (for she was quite bereft of any clothing), then put her hands on top of the water. She closed her eyes and levitated back up to her balcony and, once on the solid wood, ran into her room. She threw on her ring, some pants and a curious leather top, which tied at her back and revealed a good portion of her muscled stomach.

Dusk grabbed her belt and dagger off the floor, strapped that on, and moved to her dresser. Out of a drawer she took out two leather wristbands, shoved one on each wrist and spoke a command word to them... revealing the wrist-mounted crossbows. She opened another drawer and pulled out two arrows. The arrows were tipped with a potion that made its victims seem hopelessly drunk, making it impossible for them to do anything but giggle. The woman clicked one arrow into each bow and began to chant to them. With this chant, she could fire all the arrows she needed, never running out and never having to reload.

As she ran towards the door, Dusk grabbed her boots, levitated again and pulled them on as she floated down the stairs. Coming to the bottom, she released her spell and ran out the door. Jeaden had waited there as she had instructed, pointing to a dark, bald figure running through the vine curtain. Easily recognizing him, though she had not seen him in decades, she called out to Jarlaxle.

"What have you done with your lovely hat, old friend?" She yelled, and ran to him. "And with whoever you had with you? The boy said that he came with two men."

He gave her an incredulous look at the mention of his hat, but could not hold it. "You were not in your usual hiding spot." The drow said to her with a smile, but that would not hold, either. "As for my hat, I believe that it may be done for... unless you can fix it. Tis the same for my traveling companion that the boy mentioned. He is human, and in dire need of your help. If the elves have found him, though..." He said, and let the thought hang in the air, knowing that Dusk would figure out the rest easy enough.

"He is ailed with what many of the other humans have. I had though that if there was one hope to cure him... you would be she." Jarlaxle explained.

The woman did understand and figured that they needed to find the human, if he still survived, before the elves did. They likely would not kill him, but take him away. This would not be so terrible a fate, if only the man didn't need Dusk's healing magic relatively soon.

"The elves attacked you... is the man injured?" Dusk asked. Jarlaxle shrugged his slender shoulders. In truth he had no idea. The woman nodded and pursed her lips. She had brought her intoxicating arrows so not to kill any of the surface elves, for they apparently thought they were doing well by attacking the drow. But how would she get to the sick human before the elves?

And then, Dusk had her plan. She turned to Jeaden and pulled her ring off one of her fragile-looking fingers. The boy had used the ring's power before, just for fun. It brought up a force field around its wearer, along with anyone the wearer chose to bring into the field. She put the ring on one of his fingers and it resized itself to fit the finger better. One would not want such a ring to slip!

"Do you remember how it works?" The woman asked. Jeaden remembered, and spoke the words to put up the field. She then looked to Jarlaxle.

"You go with the boy and find your companion. Leave Jeaden with the man; have him bring the force field around them. After they are safe, you come find me. I'll have the elves taken care of by then." Dusk said her last sentence with a slight smile. She always did find those particular arrows very entertaining! And with that, she motioned for Jeaden and Jarlaxle to lead the way.

The three ran down the hill, with Jarlaxle taking care to stay close to the little elven boy. He had noticed that the little elf didn't seem frightened in the least. Jeaden knew well that they would likely be fired upon when the surface elves saw the drow reappear. The dark elf figured that the boy must know Dusk well, to trust in her so. The power of her ring would not fail, and the child knew it. Even if some highly explosive concoction were dashed upon the force field at point blank range, those within would be completely unharmed. Jarlaxle had found a measure of respect for the child.

Dusk stayed to the shadow of the trees and seemed to disappear into them. She planned to let Jeaden and the drow provide a distraction and deal with the elves herself. She wanted to ask why they had attacked an unthreatening drow elf (if a drow elf can be considered so), especially one who traveled with a sick human and an elven child! The woman had an idea as to the answer, but wanted to be completely sure before her next move.

They soon came upon the small elven band, as they crouched on the crest of the hill. Dusk signaled to Jarlaxle, and Jeaden took his arm and ran with him into the trees. The lady knew that the elves would be sure not to hit the boy with an arrow, even without the force field. Jarlaxle would be the focus of their fire and would draw their attentions from her.

The mercenary had hoped to find Entreri near to where he had fallen from his horse. The man had gotten to a safe hiding place, it seemed, for the surface elves certainly didn't have him. (Though, perhaps they had not yet gone looking. Most were still hobbling around, tending to the knee wounds Jarlaxle's daggers had inflicted.)

Dusk, up in a tree now, brought her wrist-mounted crossbows to bear. The middle fingers on each hand pumped nine times, each arrow hitting its mark on one startled surface elf. She had purposely left one, for this was one she knew well. The rest were starting to roll around and giggle on the ground. The woman leapt down from her tree, and quickly brought herself into the sunlight. She wanted the elf to recognize her well enough to hold any attack. Dareenfeil was the elf's name, and now he looked at the woman with utter shock.

"My lady who... lady Dusk?" Dareenfeil stammered. "I certainly hope there is purpose in your actions, Madame, because if you side with the drow..."

"That drow did nothing wrong, fool! Did you not notice how he made sure not to kill or permanently injure any of you?" Dusk hissed at him, a sudden angry fire in those green eyes. "You know one goodly drow, I do not believe that you would take no such action against him in the same situation!"

"Let me clue you in, dear lady. That drow you so adamantly protect took a little elven boy from his home late last night! He just ran by with the child before you started firing upon us, I'm sure you saw that!" Dareenfeil retorted, daring to put an angry glare and a condescending tone upon her. "And I am quite sure you know the boy that drow took, as well! That was Jeaden Tren'dmis, you know. You love that boy as if he were your own! So why, lady, do you keep us from taking the drow?"

At that, Dusk chuckled. She looked to the now very confused surface elf and let out a laugh straight from her belly when he questioned her. She pointed her right arm at him, and, too fast for him to dodge, fired one more arrow. The elf fell to the ground giggling in seconds.

The woman put on her sweetest smile and crouched down, whispering to Dareenfeil; "My dear sweet elf, there is no drow!"

Then she began to sing the words to a powerful spell. In her own native language her ever-echoing voice, combined with the words of her spell, fully took the elves. Each and every one stopped their giggling and stared at Dusk. She spoke to them then, knowing she had them under the powerful spell.

This spell, the woman's specialty, enabled Dusk (and only she, for none other had the inherent power) to control nearly any it had reached. A bit like a charm in some ways, but many, many times more powerful. This time, though, she used it to remove any memory of the elves fight with Jarlaxle. Things would seem out of place, and so Dusk would put something else there, some story that would fit.

"Listen, my friends..." she spoke. Each elf leaned forward to soak in her every word. "No dark elf has traveled these woods for quite some time. The boy Jeaden traveled with a man alone. He is only a child, you know, and so he saw no harm in guiding my friend to me in the middle of the night!" And she laughed, keeping the thoughts light hearted.

The woman then started up another spell, one of healing. Jarlaxle's daggers had disappeared from the holes in elven knees they created, but how would one explain the holes? She thought it would be better if they were not there at all.

"All of you can go back now..." Dusk said. "And please, do be more careful with who you fire upon. My dear friend shall be fine, though a bit shaken." The lady let out another little laugh, when speaking of the human man Jarlaxle had hopefully found by now. She wondered if her words were true. "Twas sweet of you to think to protect me, as you no doubt perceived him a threat. But I assure you, I can take care of myself. Should I ever have need, I shall certainly call to you." She was only bantering now, giving her healing spell a little more time.

Satisfied, Dusk gestured the elves off. They stood, and walked to concealed mounts. Each said a final farewell to the woman and rode quickly back to their small base upon the mountain.

Hearing a tiny thump on the ground, she turned to the large copse of trees to her left. There stood Jarlaxle, arms crossed over his chest, regarding her with a shake of his head. He chuckled then, a wide smile forming on his handsome black face.

"You know..." the drow said, "You could have warned me. I didn't know you would use that spell. If the boy had not the presence of mind to hit me, you would have had me, as well. That would have caused some difficulties, since I am drow. If no drow has traveled these woods this day, then I would not have known what to do with myself." He held his arms out wide then, beckoning for Dusk to come into them.

She ran half the distance to him and leapt into his arms. The woman wrapped her own arms around his neck, planting a light kiss on his bald head.

"I have missed you, my dear Jarlaxle!" She said to him, laughing, as he pulled her tighter into his hug.

"And I you... and, though I wish I could share a longer moment..." Jarlaxle said, looking into her face. "There is something I need you to do. The man I brought to you is in far worse condition than before. He was hit when the first elven arrows came down at him."

Dusk nodded. "Take me to him."

She had never tried to heal this plague the man had. (The silly people, they thought she was human and would let her nowhere near the afflicted.) The lady hoped that she truly could heal him. The little sparkle of anticipation in the lovely woman's green eyes was all Jarlaxle needed to know that she was prepared. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, figuring they could reach Entreri faster if she was carried. Dusk didn't know where he was, after all, and Jarlaxle wasn't in a mood to have the lady in his thoughts at the moment. The lady could not heal the dead, and so she allowed herself to be carried. The drow ran easily through the thick wood, backtracking the trail he and Jeaden had used to find the man.

* * *

Jeaden had done as Jarlaxle had told him and still sat within the force field with Entreri. The assassin had awakened a few times, taken one look at the ever-grinning child, and tried to fall back into the blackness quickly. The boy had tried to make conversation, asking the man about his "pretty little knife", speaking of his jeweled dagger. Entreri entertained thoughts of using the magnificent weapon on the boy, but pushed them aside.

It would not be wise of him to heal shut the wound and elven arrow still stuck into. Nor would the dagger's life-force stealing magic work on the plague the man had, for he had tried it before. And now, he didn't think that he would have had the strength to use the weapon, anyhow. He wondered how long he had to live, and, if Jarlaxle never came back with this woman who could supposedly cure him... would the little boy be willing to take Entreri's dagger in hand and plunge it through the man's heart? Entreri thought not, but decided to give Jarlaxle an hour. Then he would somehow subtly talk the boy into killing him. With that thought the man faded out of his pain, back into merciful unconsciousness.

As the blackness took him, he heard one last sound and saw one last clear vision. The sound; Jarlaxle's voice, talking to the elven child. The vision; a pair of impossibly green eyes that stared into his own, so very close.

* * *

Jarlaxle ran into the clearing where Entreri lie and put Dusk back on the ground. He looked at the man, lying there within the force field of Dusk's ring. Jeaden, upon seeing them, lowered the field and moved out of the woman's way. She moved down to discern that the assassin was still alive. An arrow protruded from his shoulder, set deeply there, just beneath his collarbone.

"Do you think you can heal him?" Jarlaxle spoke in the drow tongue, so as not to disturb Jeaden. He had told the child that Entreri was just taking a quick nap and that the man would play with him later... but only if he went back up to the house. Jarlaxle had heard the child run off, but didn't want to have him running back and refusing to leave until he was certain that Entreri really would be all right.

Dusk, who understood the drow's words perfectly, merely shook her head. Healing the arrow wound would be no problem. It was removing it without killing the already weakened man that worried her. He had lost a lot of blood from the wound, (and coughed up a lot of it, as well) and broken his left wrist in his initial roll from his horse.

The lady started chanting over Entreri, trying to heal him as much as possible. It was much harder while the man was unconscious. She could at least lower his fever, she knew, and stop the blood that flowed from his shoulder. But to remove the arrow and take away his pain...

"I need him awake. He's blacked out again... strange, he was just looking at me not a moment ago!" The woman said, frustrated. "What is his name?"

It occurred to Jarlaxle then that he hadn't ever mentioned the assassin's name. It seemed, somehow, that Dusk should have already known it. He mentally smacked himself in the head. _How could she know? She's never met the man... and I suppose she's trying to keep out of his head._

"Artemis... Artemis Entreri is his name." Replied the drow. He looked to Dusk and warned; "Ware him well. If he does not recognize you as an ally, he may move against you. Or... try, at least. Just don't get closer than you need."

"But that's the thing, I need to be close. Worry none." Dusk assured Jarlaxle.

He nodded, not really worried for the woman, but more for Entreri. If he moved suddenly and startled her enough, the man might get his death wish fulfilled. The drow knew how the woman could be, though, and hoped that Entreri would be fine. She could be very gentle when she wanted to be, able to coax nearly anyone into seeing her as positively harmless.

Dusk leaned down closer to the unconscious man then. She slid her hands under his shirt, preparing to make the area numb as soon as the man awoke. (And then it was her turn to mentally smack herself in the head. The man was handsome, without a doubt, and had such a nicely muscled and slightly fuzzy chest... how Dusk loved her men that way!) His broken wrist would not kill him. It could wait a little while to be healed. She hovered them over the wound the arrow stuck from.

"Artemis Entreri, come back to me." She whispered in the assassin's ear. Then she moved to look into his face. His eyes were still closed. The man had made no move, no sound besides his strained breathing. She whispered to him again, a bit louder... and nothing happened.

Sighing, she said to Jarlaxle; "Would you please hit me?" Thinking that perhaps the distraction of the man's chest would hinder her.

"What!?" The mercenary replied, very confused. "Is something wrong?"

She sighed again. "Yes... and it's going to continue to be wrong until you hit me! Now would you please just be quick about it!"

"Why would you want me to do that?" He asked, with a teasing smile, quick to catch on. "I'm not hitting you unless you tell me why I should. You're dangerous, you know." Jarlaxle added with a smirk.

"Oh for all the stupid..." the woman began, then chuckled at her friend. "You didn't tell me he was so handsome, or so… deliciously hairy! Okay? Happy now?" Jarlaxle, laughing now, nodded. "Good, whack me one. I can't do much of anything..."

SMACK! Jarlaxle hit her across the back of her head and laughed some more.

"Thank you. Ass..." Dusk replied. Jarlaxle hadn't caught her last comment, since he was trying not to laugh at her.

The woman turned her attention back to Entreri, who was still quite unconscious. She tried whispering to him one last time... which didn't work. Even though her whisper carried a bit of magic, the assassin was too far into blackness for it to take. And so, no other alternative that would not bring the man about trying to kill her presented itself.

The woman pulled one hand from his shirt and held her hair back with it. She then leaned down close to his face and lightly kissed his thin lips, lending him of bit of her own life force. He stirred, briefly, and she moved away. She spoke to him, asking if he was awake. Still she got no response. Dusk kissed him once more, harder this time, mentally commanding him to wake up.

How surprised she was when she tried to pull away again, feeling him stir, and found that she could not. Artemis Entreri, a bit stronger already from her kiss, had clamped his hand on the back of her head and held her to him.

The woman didn't mind all that much, and didn't try to pull back again. For, now that he was conscious again, she could begin to work on his shoulder. She allowed him to kiss her, to borrow whatever energy she could spare, figuring it would be better if he stayed distracted.

Dusk lightly put her hand down around the arrow in Entreri's shoulder, letting her magic numb it. A moment later she pulled her hand from his shirt, took the dagger from her belt and stuck it in the ground beside her. The woman broke the kiss to take the man's hand from where he had entwined it in her hair. Entreri tried to pull her back, not from any attraction to her (for he could just barely see her, anyhow), but because her lips themselves held such power. He had wanted to pull more from them.

But that Dusk could not allow. She had given him a bit of strength, because he would need it, especially if his wound bled a lot when she removed the arrow. Though the lady needed to heal him fully, and could not do so if she herself had no energy.

She smiled at him and kissed his forehead, whispering. "Be still now, dear Artemis." He did lie back down then, for though he was a strong willed man, the ever-echoing words carried a more powerful command than his still dazed head could easily shrug off.

Dusk pulled her dagger from the ground, cutting off the arrow's shaft where it had sunk into the human's shoulder. She threw that aside, put her hand under Entreri. He tried to sit up a bit to aid her, but found that he was far too weak and simply allowed the lady to hold him up. She tightly grasped remaining piece of the arrow with one hand, the other on the front side, closer to his collarbone and prepared to slow the blood flow that would come. The man shut his grey eyes and gritted his teeth, expecting an incredible amount of pain. She took a deep breath, hoping that her magic had indeed numbed the wound. Ever so carefully pulled she out the arrow from the back of the assassin's shoulder.

She had to quickly cover the other side of the hole, so that the sick man would not lose any more of his much needed blood. Entreri merely stared at her, wondering why he wasn't passed out once again from pain.

The assassin was about to ask why he hadn't even swooned when this strange woman had cut in half the arrow that had been stuck so deeply into his shoulder. And how in the hell had he not felt a thing when she pulled the arrow out? Entreri held his question.

The woman was chanting again, holding tightly the hole now through his shoulder. The assassin was certainly aware of it, but somehow, it didn't hurt him any. And, a few moments later, when Dusk moved to let go of the hole, it was no longer there. Seeing her finished, Entreri asked his question.

"Your pardon..." he said, his voice hoarse and aching, and she looked at him once more, "What did you do to me?" With his still blurry vision, the man could not see much of her. He would not have liked the smile she wore much if he could see.

"A simple spell, and that is all. I have tried to bring down your fever a bit..." Dusk said, "But it seems as if it is coming back sooner than I expected."

In looking at the man again, she saw that she was correct. Apparently, the quick healing she had done while he was still unconscious had not been enough. He had turned on his side and started coughing up blood again. Entreri lie on his back again and groaned, covering his face with his hands. It seemed that his headache was returning as well.

Dusk looked to Jarlaxle, who was now seated on the ground watching her. He regarded Entreri as well, asking him if he felt better. At that, the aching and now grumpy assassin gave him the finger. The man was truly not in the mood for Jarlaxle's antics at the time. The drow simply chuckled, drawing a growl from Entreri and a stifled giggle from Dusk. The man mumbled something then, rolled over on his stomach and coughed some more.

"We should get him up to the house. The moist ground does him no good, and I'm sure it would do him well to at least drink something." Dusk said to Jarlaxle. The drow nodded his agreement. She crouched down beside Entreri again and asked; "Do you think you can walk?"

"I think not, nor do I think you could carry me." The man let out a muffled laugh, still lying on his stomach, his arms wrapped around his head. "I cannot see, anyway. I would probably run right into a tree… and then wouldn't you both have a giggle at that!" He said, and started laughing hysterically, mumbling something now and then.

Both Jarlaxle and Dusk looked at the man, concerned. Obviously he was not cured of his sickness just yet. In truth, the lady probably could have carried him, but not as quickly as she would have liked. So the lady put her dagger back on her belt and shut her eyes, calling upon a spell of teleportation. She took both Jarlaxle and Entreri with her, and the three soon reappeared on the balcony of a guest room of her house.

They were in the room then, Dusk guiding Entreri to the other side. She lie him down on the bed there, where he fast began to fall asleep. So soft was the bed! The man wanted nothing more than to go to sleep, to escape the worsened pain in his head and once again rising fever. But, unfortunately for him, (in his mind at the time, anyhow) Dusk would not let him. Seeing the human near to dozing off, she promptly bit him, rather hard.

"OUCH! Are you insane, woman? Why won't you just let me sleep, for the sake of anything merciful!" Entreri moaned at her, not feeling very well at all.

"I cannot help you much if you are sleeping, my dear man..." and was cut off by Entreri's next groan.

"Please, why so loud? My head..." he groaned again, and, almost as an afterthought. "Do not ever call me 'dear' again, else I may have to show you just how dear I am not!"

Dusk was unfazed by his threats in response to her concern. She had even expected them. But upon hearing that last statement, Jarlaxle nearly threw a dagger into the man's heart. The drow would have expected the same of him, but not now, and not at Dusk. It would be better to kill the man now, before he raised her ire and she ended up killing him. That the man certainly would not want, Jarlaxle knew.

But, Dusk's look stayed her friend's arm. She shook her head.

"I am told that the few humans who survive this long are not kind to their helpers. If he was important enough to bring to me, I should think that you would gain nothing in killing him now." She took his hand and continued.

"Go and entertain Jeaden..." she said to him, hearing a giggle and running footsteps outside the closed door. "Or rather, have him entertain you. Whichever you please. I will tend to him." Gesturing to Entreri. She gave the mercenary her usual smile, letting him know that she minded not the man's threats and that she could easily take care of herself.

Jarlaxle kissed the woman briefly, and went to leave the room. Upon opening the door, he found a beaming Jeaden standing there, wearing his wide brimmed hat. The hat had an arrow hole in it now, but the boy still seemed to be so very thrilled to wear it. The drow looked at the boy and laughed. The little one had found his hat and was now happily handing it to him. Jarlaxle took one final nervous look at his old friend, left the room with the boy and shut the door.

Dusk smiled a little at the unlikely pair, turning her attentions back to Entreri. To her surprise, the man was still awake, watching her. He lay there, blinking and trying to make his eyes focus correctly. She looked back at him, her green gaze concerned.

The lady sat down on the bed beside him and put her hand to his forehead. He flinched, tried to pull away. He could see barely at all now, and knew not her intentions. But he lay still then, realizing that she only wanted to see if his fever had lowered any.

"It has not, I shall tell you that. I believe it has grown since I lie down, for I can see close to nothing now..." Entreri said, much softer than before. "But I did see something of interest. Or, at least I think I did. My mind is not pleased with me, it seems, so I cannot be sure."

Dusk merely smiled at him, grimly amused at the man's words. Entreri was an incredible human, this she knew from the fact that he was still drawing breath. Many younger men than he had died long before this painful final stage of the plague. This assassin had been subjected to cold, pounding rain, had survived a fall from his horse that should have broken his spine and then an arrow through his shoulder… this man should be very dead. The lady shook her head.

"Here," She whispered, pulling a goblet of water from the bedside table and gathering Entreri's hands around it.

The assassin tried once more to sit up. He nearly managed it, but the effort on his weary form started him shaking once more, and Dusk had to take hold of the goblet herself to keep it from spilling everywhere. She slipped an arm behind his back and pushed him into a sitting position. Entreri mumbled his thanks and allowed the lady to hold him up, but still he tried to take the goblet from her hands, even though they shook far too violently for him to possibly hope to hold it alone. Finally he gave up and allowed Dusk to put the drink to his lips for him. The man took a tentative swallow, then a deeper one. His parched throat, at least, felt a hundred times better for it, and he gestured for the lady to take the goblet away.

Dizzily, Entreri tried to tilt his head back to look at his strange helper.

"Why do you tend to me?" He asked, working to suppress a cough.

Dusk smiled, gently lying the man back down onto the bed.

"Jarlaxle has asked me to spare your life." She tilted her head to one side, regarding the man for a moment. "And I myself truly do not wish for you to die, so I shall do as he asks."

"I owe you much, then, and should you succeed in doing so, I'll be hard pressed to repay such a debt."

Dusk laughed gently and placed one hand on each side of the man's head. The need to be swift about her work pressed in on her. There was no time to discuss a return of the immense favor she now did the assassin. Before she started her chant, one that she hoped would cure the man's sickness, he grabbed her wrists.

"You are his then, Jarlaxle's? And yet you kissed me, ha, but I got you back... and then I threaten his dear lady..." He looked in Dusk's direction, "I am an intelligent one, now aren't I... the foolish human... I suppose you are not, then, hmm? Human, I mean..." He paused for a moment, thinking. The woman was laughing, so very softly, all through Entreri's babble. He had started naming off races, trying to guess hers, she supposed.

"Hush, now." She whispered, and kissed is forehead.

His fever was burning much hotter than before. And, though she did not know the man, she figured that this was a far cry from his normal behavior. Even moments ago, he had seemed quite a bit more like the image of the man that Jarlaxle had imparted upon her. The fever had probably caused the strange way he acted, Dusk knew.

He did stop babbling then.

"I belong to no one, I assure you."

With that, she started her chant, starting on Entreri's head, working down the length of his body. She worked over him for hours, slowly pulling the plague from the man. His fever went back down relatively quickly, and he was able to see clearly soon after. The man took a moment to look over the woman.

Artemis Entreri had traveled close to the entirety of Faerun and had seen so many different lovely women. But none of those were like the one who now leaned over him. He had never encountered any creature to match the beauty of this one. Her hair, a huge mass of curls and waves, was such shade of the richest red the man had seen, and it was so very long. Draped over her right shoulder, as to keep from brushing his face, it covered most of that side of her body. All that her hair did not cover, though… the lady was well muscled and very well formed. The assassin tried quite hard not to stare anywhere below the line of her collar for too long.

Then there was her face, and that is where Entreri found his eyes easily lingering most often. It was angular, somewhat like his own, but with a few more exotic features. Her face had some quality that he could not name, some strangeness he could not place. He noticed her tattoo then, the strange curving mark under her left eye. It looked so very familiar to him, though he knew not why.

Her eyes, he knew, were a deep green the likes of which he had never seen. The man found himself wishing she would open them, just so he could be sure he hadn't been seeing things earlier and assure himself that they really were such a color. Green eyes were uncommon among nearly any race he knew of, but ones that shade seemed impossible. Hours of careful study had brought Entreri an appreciation of the lady, and he wondered for the first time just who this beauty could be.

Suddenly, Dusk let her hands fall away from the man. She started to get up off the bed, but sat back down again, near to fainting. The woman was so very exhausted now. The plague Entreri had had been harder to pull from him than she had expected. She sat still a moment and tried getting up again, to no avail. She fell back down to the bed, unconscious, her head landing half on the assassin's thigh.

The man looked at her strangely, about to ask what she was doing. He tried to sit up, but found himself to still be very dizzy, and settled for pulling his body away from the woman. The man was not at all fond of people touching him. Though he had moved and started talking impatiently to her, she seemed not to notice or care. Entreri looked at her again, listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing. He chuckled then, realizing that she had fallen asleep and realizing, too, that she was about to fall off the bed.

Entreri sighed, and pulled the soundly sleeping woman farther up onto the bed. If not for the rise and fall of her chest, the assassin would have thought her dead, for she moved not at all. She didn't look very comfortable with her head bent at such an odd angle, the man had thought. Entreri shut his eyes for a moment and nearly fell asleep himself. Perhaps a bit of rest would do them both well.

The assassin pulled the single pillow underneath his head, and sighed again. He looked to the sleeping woman once more, knowing that he owed her his life. For all that she had done for him, he could at least make her more comfortable.

Shaking his head, not believing what he was doing, he pulled the beautiful little woman to him and laid her head gently on his chest, pushing her hair aside from her face. He winced then, at the thought of what she might do to him if she awoke to find herself in such a position. He did not even know the lady's name, and yet there she lie, wrapped tightly in Entreri's arms, for she had begun to shiver.

_I owe this little creature my life! _Entreri told himself. He definitely was uncomfortable, having a woman, however lovely she might be, asleep in his arms. The man nearly threw her off the first time she moved. She had put her own arms over his shoulders, and nuzzled her face against his chest. _I must sleep..._ he thought. He was fully exhausted himself, and if he slept he would not be aware of the woman. The assassin did sleep then, falling happily into the darkness. Though he did find rest, he also found the lovely woman in his dreams.


	3. Awakening, Unexpected

Chapter 3: Awakening, Unexpected

Leena Tren'dmis looked curiously at the elf that had come to her door. He had just relieved her of her worry for her son. Little Jeaden was with Dusk, a woman who had Leena had come to be very close to; she had even named the lady a sister. So of course Jeaden was safe, and was probably having fun bugging his beloved "Auntie". What troubled the elven maiden, though, was the fact that Jeaden had left in the middle of the night, without a word to anyone at all.

Her daughter, Karindala, who was ten years older than Jeaden, listened to the story with interest. She had been the one who found her little brother missing. The girl had gotten up a few hours after her brother had snuck out of his window. She was just about to go in, jump on the boy in middle of the night and scare the hell out of him. How surprised the girl had been when she jumped on an empty bed!

The elven warrior had told her why her son had left at such an hour, and this she believed. There was a rather large hole in the story, though. Some had seen the man Jeaden had taken to his aunt, but had also seen with them a third member of the odd party. The elves that had followed the party's trail had no knowledge of a third person.

Leena had been wondering since hearing the story just who belonged in the hole of the tale. Her brother, an elf by the name of Dareenfeil had been with the band that had went up the mountain. Even he knew nothing of a third member of that party. He, like every other elves who had gone to investigate, only knew of two; Jeaden and a human. The human, a man, had been injured, or was sick... none remembered for sure.

Leena sent the elven warrior home to his own children then. She sat in a soft chair, and wondered. There had been rumors of a strange dark elf wandering about the area, seeking Dusk. According to those rumors, he (for the drow was certainly a he) had caused no trouble and was rather polite.

When she first heard those reports, Leena hadn't worried in the least, thinking that the drow they spoke of was one she knew; one Drizzt Do'Urden. But, the physical description of the dark elf had not fit at all... the one who wandered the area lat night wore a very large hat and had shaved off all of his pure white hair. That was definitely not Drizzt.

The elven maiden was a bit worried, for her son and her dear friend. No one lived very close to Dusk, and she was unmarried. The only others relatively close to the lady's home were the band of elves who kept watch over the mountain trails. If the drow elf who sought her were to attack the lady, would she be able to defeat him? While protecting Jeaden and the injured (or sick) man the child had brought to her as well, she might be vulnerable. (She was, as far as Leena knew, only human. A human with a few tricks up her sleeves, yes, though still only human.) Was the third person that others had seen traveling with the man in Dusk's company now?

And, the most disturbing of the many questions Leena had; was that third person, if he was really there, the dark elf many had seen, only in a magical guise? Drow were capable of such disguises, Leena knew from her limited knowledge of her dark cousins.

The elven maiden made a decision then. She needed to see Dusk. Not only to make sure that the woman and her own son were safe, but to fill a few holes in the accounts of those warriors who had gone to find Jeaden. That they had spoken with the lady was certain. Perhaps she could fill those holes in the elves' tale.

Leena went to the bedroom she shared with her husband and prepared a small pack. As she left, she looked to her bow and her saber, wondering if she would need them. She doubted that she would, but picked them up anyhow... just in case.

Karindala poked her head in the room then, wondering what her mother was doing, just as Leena was strapping her bow onto her small pack.

"Mommy?" The girl said, questioning. "Are you going up to get Jeaden?"

Leena looked up at her daughter then. The look in the girl's eyes was excited, pleading for her mother to let her come along. She was always happy to visit Dusk, even if only for a short time. The lady always had something interesting up her sleeve for her to do. Leena sighed, hating to turn away her daughter, especially when she wore that look. The elf woman thought herself being paranoid, then, and nearly allowed the little girl to tag along. But, if something did happen, if Karindala was hurt... there were just too many questions, too many possibilities.

"To get your brother, and to spend a few days with your aunt." Leena replied with a sigh. Her daughter pooched out her lower lip. "Don't look at me that way, sweetheart! I tell you what! Perhaps, and I need to ask her first, so don't get too excited..." The woman reasoned with Karindala. "...Perhaps Dusky could ride back here when I come back with Jeaden and stay the night. Then maybe, just maybe now, you could go back home with her the next day to stay a bit. Sound all right?"

Karindala squeaked and nodded joyfully. Her mother reminded her once more that she still needed to ask Dusk, trying to calm the girl. It helped, but only very little. Leena kissed and hugged her daughter farewell, then sent her off to her chores. (Which, the girl did... skipping happily all over the place.)

The elven maiden went to her pantry and took a few biscuits. It was not a terribly long ride, only little less than a full day, but she figured she might as well have something small to eat with her. She left the pantry, went into the den and plopped down in Alandane's, her husband's, lap.

"I am going to visit Dusk for a day or two." Leena said to her husband. "She has no female company at all, and with both Jeaden and the man he brought there, I fear she'll go mad." The maiden laughed then. Dusk, for as lovely as she was, had few suitors (whom she always turned away), though many males did enjoy her company on the times they visited.

"And, you shall come home with Jeaden?" Alandane asked. He smiled an evil little grin, almost hoping that the boy might stay with Dusk for a bit longer than his wife.

Leena whacked his thigh then, laughing. "Why you wicked creature!" She said, jesting. The evil smile had spread to her face by that time. "The boy could go for a ride with his sister, perhaps, or take care of Taenil's horses a bit longer than usual..." and kissed her husband, with a bit more force than she had intended.

The elf pulled away from her husband suddenly saying; "Ack, I need to get going! Hold the house 'till I get back!"

She jumped from his lap, and with a final 'I love you', ran out the door to the barn. Leena fed, watered and then saddled up her favorite horse, which was a small gray thing. Within twenty minutes, the elven maiden was off, running the horse off towards the mountain where Dusk lived. It was early yet, so she met no one on the road to slow her progress.

* * *

Artemis Entreri awoke with a start. He sat up in the soft bed and looked around. For the first time in many, many days, the assassin found that he could sit up so quickly and not be overcome by dizziness. _A dream? _He thought to himself, wondering about the almost normal state he found himself in... but then remembered pieces of the night before. If he had been dreaming at all, it would have been then, and not now.

Entreri noticed a dull ache in his left wrist, then. He lifted it, realizing that it was bandaged and splinted, and wondered what had happened. The man did not remember breaking it in the fall from his horse, nor did he remember when the careful bandaging job had been done.

Though, the man did have a clear idea as to who had bandaged his wrist. The night before, there had been one lovely lady who had cared for him. Perhaps, had she not been only a facet of the odd dream he had dreamt, it was that lady who had done it.

_She could not have been real._ The man thought, _...and, if she were, I would in all likelihood have harmed her in my sleep. Yet, there is no sign of that anyplace... so where would she be now, if she ever truly was?_

Entreri looked around the room he was in, and didn't recognize any part of it. If the night before was all a crazed, fever induced dream, then where was he? And why was there no fever now? Certainly someone hadn't come up with a cure for the plague he had overnight and given it to him… so what had happened?

The man then was forced to face the fact that everything that had gone on was truly real, that he had lived it all. Especially when he noticed the plate of fine food on the night table beside the bed. He moved cautiously over to the other side of the bed, picked up the plate and sniffed it. Satisfied that there was nothing that would kill him in it, he began to eat, at first quickly. He had not eaten in days, and his body desperately needed food.

Entreri soon realized that, because of his having eaten nothing in some time, he should eat much slower. He didn't want to be losing that much needed meal a few moments later. And, he realized, too who had to have made the meal. Jarlaxle could cook, but certainly not like this. The man only knew of two other people in the house he was in now, and one was but a child, also incapable of preparing such a meal.

_So where is the lady?_ _And how could I not have noticed her getting up to set my wrist... or make this meal and put it on the table... she fell asleep right on my chest. It would have been impossible for her to move without waking me. Besides that, she was at least as exhausted as I..._

A voice to the side took Entreri from his thoughts and made him nearly choke on his food, as well.

"I am here, Master Artemis. Tis so very kind of you to think of me!" Said the very woman he had been wondering about, from the windowsill behind him.

Her green eyes laughed his way as he started coughing. The man was not at all happy about being startled so, especially while he was eating. He managed a scowl through the cough.

"You should slow down a bit, my friend! Please, there is a drink beside you." The lady motioned to the night table. And all of a sudden, there was a goblet there, waiting for the assassin.

The man took it, and tried to sniff that as well. Whatever was in the wrong place in his throat insisted that he drink quickly, though. He put it to his lips and took a rather large swallow. As the liquid burned down his throat, he turned back to the lady on the windowsill, who was now laughing heartily at him.

"What, might I ask, would be the amusement in my taking a drink?" Entreri asked her with an attempt at a growl. The growling tone came out hoarsely, though. _What was that infernal substance? _He thought, realizing that whatever it was had a great deal of alcohol in it.

"That 'infernal substance', my dear, was my very favorite drink! One of my own creation." The lady smiled at him, seeing the shocked look on his face. "And my amusement was borne of the huge gulp of it you drank so quickly!" She chuckled, and said; "Not even I can do that, and still expect to walk straight for a little bit."

Entreri was about to shoot back a threatening remark, but then realized something... the lady had just been reading his mind! His every thought she heard, every question of her whereabouts; and she had just repeated perfectly the phrase he had used to describe his drink. What amazed (and slightly appalled) him further was the fact that she had even mimicked the very tone in which he had thought the phrase.

He pushed away all of the rude comments and the many threats quickly. The man wondered if she had been able to pull them from his head, as well. It seemed as if, within her small frame, the woman held an awful lot of power. Entreri did not want that power turned upon him. As politely as he could in his angry mood, he spoke to her.

"Your pardon once again, my dear lady." He said, fairly disgusted by the endeared title he was using upon her, knowing that he needed to be truly sincere. "I did not mean to be rude..." and looked up at her, "yet I find that I still am not being a gentleman. I have not even bothered to ask the name of the lovely lady to whom I owe my very life."

The woman chuckled, wondering just how much the apology bothered the man. She had heard his earlier threats and curses, but ignored them for the time. The lady hopped down off the windowsill and bowed to the man. (Then quickly grabbed for the windowsill once more, for she was still fairly tired from healing the man. She planned to go back to sleep once her business with Entreri was finished.)

"My name is Dusk, mighty assassin." And the man looked at her strangely... had his fame spread so far, or did she just pick the title of "assassin" from his own mind? She explained with a grin, picking up on his confusion; "Jarlaxle, a friend to us both, has told me much of you. And the drow..." she said, for he then began to wonder about where the mercenary was. "...Is just outside, swimming in the lake with the Jeaden, be he where I left him."

Entreri did something that was so incredibly unlike himself, then. (He would look back upon it later on that day, and bang his head against a table in disbelief.) He stood, wobbling quite a bit from the potent liquid he had drank moments before, and walked to the window. He kneeled before Dusk, thinking it better not to fall upon her, and took her hand.

"My dear Dusk, then, I hate to be in anyone's debt. Surely I am in yours, and quite a few times over. If there is anything I can do to repay you, do tell me quickly." The assassin said, and, with a deep sigh, he softly kissed the lady's hand. Dusk knew that this was not something the man wanted to do and thought it rather sweet of him. She also knew that he probably wasn't trying to be sweet, just careful to dissuade any anger she held. He did owe her his life, after all.

She grinned a secret sly grin, wondering what the man meant by "anything"... and mentally swatted herself once more. _Ah, you handsome creature..._ Dusk thought, ... _were I you, I would not have made such an offer._ And she sighed. _But, I must behave myself._ Her thoughts were jarred when she pulled in another sigh. Handsome as Entreri might be, he was in terrible need of a bath!

Dusk stroked the man's face and tilted his chin so that he could look at her from his kneeling position. _I wonder if he can get up now... seeing how quickly he downed his drink._ She thought with a slight grin, holding back laughter. _It should make for quite a sight to see him try!_

"You are so very kind, dear man... though, I do have a favor to ask." Said Dusk. Entreri cocked an eyebrow at her. "Tis only a small thing, really, and I hate to sound so awful... but would you be to terribly insulted to go and take a bath?"

No one living had ever so blatantly told Entreri that he needed a bath. He had no interest in fancy bathing habits, nor anything else fancy for that matter, but he had always made sure he smelled fine. But the man was not insulted, for he knew it to be truth. The woman was so very brave, though. She had just told him, as politely as it could be said, that he smelled terrible. That he admired, and he chuckled a little.

"Of course, lady. I know what I must smell like. I don't find it very pleasant myself. So, if you would please, point me to the nearest river." Entreri said, standing and attempting another bow. This one nearly succeeded, but he fell over coming up. Luckily, Dusk caught him, and saved him the embarrassment of falling on his face.

"A river I cannot do for you at the moment, though there is a bathtub in..." The lady began, but Entreri was already shaking his head.

It seemed that the man was not at all fond of bathtubs. A slight frown came upon his face as Dusk insisted upon it. She sighed and bit back a laugh, standing him upright once more.

"As you wish, then. Go down the stairs and out the door. Once outside, walk east a little way. You shall find yourself a fine river there, beside a large lake." The lady finished, shaking her head and trying her best not to laugh out loud. If Entreri was set on bathing in the river, then so be it!

_Ah well... I did mention earlier to him that the lake beside the river was occupied!_ Dusk thought as Entreri walked, carefully, out the door to the room. _This should be amusing, indeed!_ Dusk laughed loudly, then, and walked to her own room. She opened up the doors to her balcony, which had a clear view overlooking the lake and the river. She snickered a bit, seeing Entreri walk out the back door towards the river a moment later.

The river he was going to bathe in had a huge waterfall coming down to it, flowing from the lake. Not only was it pretty, and brought warmer water down from the lake; it also completely blocked the lake from view of the river. Though, the river could be seen from the lake. And, as Dusk had suspected (and she had let Entreri in on her suspicions), Jarlaxle and Jeaden were still in the lake. Jarlaxle had gone swimming, and Jeaden, completely enamored with the mercenary, had insisted on joining him. He now crouched on the bank, preparing to jump on the drow.

Dusk, who was lying down on her balcony floor, watched Entreri approach the river's edge. She wrapped her arms around her head, trying to stifle the sound of her snickering.

* * *

Entreri bent down by the riverbank and put his hand in the water. It was fairly warm for the fall season, and was not moving too fast. The man wondered how deep the water was, how well he would be able to swim if it came above his head. It did look rather deep in some places. He wasn't tall, though he could normally swim very well. But, the drink Dusk had given him was still hanging on, the alcohol coursing through his veins. He had not had as much trouble walking as he had anticipated... but swimming was a different matter!

The assassin stripped off his clothes, laying them near to the bank. Entreri laid his belt (with Charon's Claw and his jeweled dagger amazingly still attached) underneath his clothes. He had been indeed surprised to find that Dusk had left his weapons belt on. The only thing missing was his gauntlet, and that he supposed, had needed to be removed in order for the lady to heal him at all.

_Either the lady Dusk is more powerful than one could understand, or an incredible fool. _The man thought. _The fact that I still draw breath tells me that it was no fool who cured me..._ Which alarmed him more than a bit. A few other very powerful beings had tried to cure the man, and failed miserably. But this woman had pulled nothing short of a miracle... though she seemingly had nothing to gain from the man's survival. Why, then, did he still live?

Entreri shook the disturbing thoughts away. He took a deep breath, hoping that the river wasn't too deep, and dove in. He dove shallow, though, just in case the water was not as deep as it seemed. He certainly did not wish to hit his already slightly spinning head. The man came up a few moments later, relieved. The water just barely reached his waist where he had come up, and what swimming he had to do was fairly sturdy.

* * *

Jeaden crouched down in the bushes near the lake's edge. Jarlaxle's turned back was all too tempting for the boy. The drow had his head cocked to the side, listening to a sound barely perceptible over the roar of the waterfall nearby. The little elven boy did not know this, and, as far as he could tell, Jarlaxle was inviting an attack! Jeaden covered his mouth to hide a giggle, thinking this all to perfect. He crouched down lower, moving closer to the water, and jumped at Jarlaxle.

The drow spun and caught the child at the last minute, tossing him up into the air, where he landed with a splash in the water. The boy came up again, laughing and splashing at Jarlaxle. The mercenary smiled back at Jeaden, who jumped onto his back and refused to get off.

Jarlaxle heard another sound, then, coming from the direction of the house. He looked to where the sound came from, and a wide smile cut across his black face. There, on her balcony, lay Dusk. She had been watching he and the elven child, so the mercenary had thought, and found the boy's foolery to be a source of entertainment. She saw the drow looking at her and let out a snort of muffled laughter.

_"My sweet, do the child and I truly paint such an entertaining picture?"_ Jarlaxle projected the thought to her. The lady buried her head in her arms, trying to control her wild laughter. He raised an eyebrow at that. Was she trying to keep quiet, thinking that he had not seen her yet?

Dusk was able to concentrate just long enough to project back;_ "It would be an even better picture to paint, had you my vantage point!" _Then she ran back into her room. From the way it sounded, the lady was laughing rather loudly, but had shoved her face into a pillow.

Jarlaxle stared at the woman when she came back out, carrying the pillow. He tried to ask what in the hell she had meant, but she shook her head and appeared to be grinning. Apparently, the lady would not let on to what she really found so funny. The drow pondered on that for a moment, and was interrupted by another tiny sound. This one came not from Dusk, but from outside, near to where he and Jeaden swam. The mercenary recognized the sound as the same one he had been listening to when the child jumped at him.

Jarlaxle shut his eyes for a moment, thinking he and the boy to be in some danger. An animal, a bear perhaps, had come along, wondering what food was doing delivering itself. The dark elf started walking towards the sound and then looked back to Dusk, who did not meet his gaze. She had her face shoved in her pillow again, her entire body shaking with her muffled laughter.

_"What?"_ He projected to her again, only to have her curl up into a little ball, laughing harder. The mercenary knew that the lady would alert him to any sort of danger... so what, then?

Jeaden asked Jarlaxle what was so funny, why his aunt was laughing so very hard. The mercenary gestured for the boy to stay quiet and hold on to his back. The child did, and the drow moved slowly towards the sound of the waterfall. He zeroed in on a difference in sound, as if the water were hitting something that was not rock.

Dusk was laughing into her pillow again, lying on her back, watching intently. Jarlaxle found a solid rock to stand on in the middle of the falls, and looked over.

* * *

Artemis Entreri stood under the waterfall that ran down from the lake, letting the water wash away the week or so of dirt upon his body. He ran his hands through his still black hair, washing that out. He shook his head, further spraying water all over. Entreri stood easily on the smooth rocks below the falls. The swirling water just reaching his waist let him find his balance, despite the considerable amount of alcohol still in his system.

The roar of the waterfall against the rocks (and perhaps a little bit of the alcohol) around him prevented him from hearing the giggles of a young boy. The always-alert man had heard not at thing, until someone yelled out his name. He spun about, moving out from the waterfall, into an even shallower part of the river.

He heard the laughing voice of Jarlaxle, then, and the giggling of the boy Jeaden. The two stood up above him, on top of the waterfall.

"My friend, if you truly desire to give someone a show, return to the house! I'm sure Dusk would appreciate it far better than we!" The mercenary smirked, and Jeaden nearly toppled the drow from their precarious perch with his giggles.

Entreri looked down to see just how low the water rode on his naked body. It sat just under his hips now, giving the two laughing elves all too well a look at the patch of hair that ran from his groin to his navel. That was much too low for his liking! He moved towards the bank for his clothes, and the deeper water.

_Perhaps I shall pay the lady a visit._ The man thought angrily, grabbing his pants and leaping out of the water. He pulled them on as quickly as he could, his back turned to Jarlaxle and Jeaden, who were having a giggle at his naked behind. Entreri heard other laughter, loud, musical, and uncontrolled, coming from the house. He looked in that direction and saw Dusk rolling around on a balcony.

The angry and embarrassed man grabbed his belt. He forgot all about his shirt and boots, and ran towards the house. Why did the woman not tell him that Jarlaxle and Jeaden were so close by? And she had been watching all the while, knowing what would happen sooner or later!

"I would not move against her, assassin! Not without much planning and an army in front of me! She may be weakened for the time, but is still quite able to injure you greatly with a snap of her fingers!"

Jarlaxle called out a warning to Entreri, quickly recovering from his gales of laughter. The drow saw clearly what the human was going to try from the growl on his lips as he had pulled on his belt. Obviously he was angry, and more at Dusk than at Jarlaxle's teasing. No one still living, except for Dusk, had dared set the master killer up for such embarrassment! The man planned to hinder the lady's currently healthy state. He would not kill her, he owed her that much, but he would be sure that the lady wouldn't be laughing at him long.

* * *

Dusk sat calmly on her bed, awaiting Entreri. She had seen him run into the house looking rather upset. Now it seemed that he was quietly peering into every door he came upon, looking for her. He knew the general area, but not the exact door, or if the lady was still in the room off the balcony she'd watched from.

Not a few seconds later, the door to the next room was opened, and Dusk picked up her dagger, preparing to throw it. The lady did not fear the assassin, but respected him, wanted to avoid a fight with him if she could. She aimed for where Entreri's belt level would be upon hearing the man come to her own door, which he quickly opened after finding it unlocked. He burst in, and the look on his face told Dusk that he was very surprised to find her sitting there, so composed... except for her right arm. It had all of a sudden jerked.

And all of a sudden, Entreri found that his belt was lying on the floor. He stopped and stood a few feet away from Dusk, just about to leap at her, wondering what had caused his belt to fall. The woman smiled at him and motioned to the wall behind him.

The man looked, cautiously, and saw a dagger, stuck nearly half the blade's length into the wall. It was a strange dagger, one that he had never seen the likes of. The long blade was covered with strange markings, and the crosspiece was sculpted into a bat, which seemed to glare at him with beady little eyes. The heavy looking rose shaped pommel waved back and forth, as if it had just been thrown.

Entreri looked around the room, his anger tempered a bit, for some unseen protector Dusk might have. Finding none, he looked to the grinning woman, sitting ever so calmly upon her bed. The man had figured out what had happened to his belt, at least. The lady had sat there waiting for him, cleanly cut the belt off, and all before he had completely opened the door. The jerk of her right arm had been the follow through of her amazing throw.

The assassin remembered his run to the house, then. Jarlaxle had warned him of the lady, telling him of the fact that she did not need to be fully rested to do considerable damage. Entreri had not believed the drow then, thinking Dusk's power to be mostly in her magic, which she could not use as fully as she would have liked at the time.

He had never encountered magic like hers before, and so had not yet learned to defeat it, but the man had been quite confident that he could defeat her in a physical fight. Now, though knowing that he was still an able match for her, his confidence was tempered with his anger. The dagger she had thrown was obviously very heavy for throwing; yet the lady had done so, perfectly. Entreri looked to his unprotected skin, holding more respect for the woman still sitting so calm, coming to realize that she hadn't even grazed him.

The throw had been perfect, the assassin knew. He was not even sure that he could have made such a throw... but so what? Dusk was very good with her dagger throws, but could she truly fight? Entreri's anger returned to him, and he turned an awful gray glare upon the lady.

"Might I ask what possessed you to not let me know that I would not be alone when I went to bathe? I do not think it very wise..." Entreri began, but was cut off by Dusk.

"I did tell you, but perhaps you were not listening. Or perhaps your sickness still holds your mind a little bit. Perhaps that hindered your memory of my telling you... but the fact remains, my dear, I did tell you." The lady retorted calmly, expecting Entreri's angry threat. "And even if I had not, I insisted that you bathe inside. But, you did not listen, which was your own choice."

The assassin thought back to his earlier conversation with the woman. Indeed she had told him that Jarlaxle and Jeaden were in the lake, and had insisted that he stay inside to bathe. There he was wrong, he knew, and knew that he would have slapped her away had she tried to stop him from leaving the house. She knew it too, so she had let him go. But why had she laughed at him, then?

"True enough..." Entreri spat. "But why sit upon your balcony, watching and laughing? Surely there was some way you could have told me..."

"I could have told you, quite true. But if you had heeded my words in the first place, you never would have found yourself in such a predicament. You see, people have a habit of not listening to the things I say, and I do so hate that... so I teach them otherwise." Dusk replied, with an equal amount of venom suddenly in her voice.

The lady looked over him, shaking her head. Her tone changed again, became lighthearted and mildly cheeky.

"And, Artemis..." she called to him as he started walking out of the room, "... have you any idea as to how long it has been since I last saw a naked man? Especially one as fine as yourself..." The lady threw Entreri a wink, and laughed slyly.

The man turned quickly and drew his jeweled dagger. In the same movement, he tackled the woman, knocking her off the other side of the bed. He pinned her with little effort, stabbing his dagger into the floor, merely an inch from her head. Entreri took in a rattling breath then, steadying himself.

"I do not truly wish to harm you, my lady. I am still greatly in your debt, and it would be tragic for eyes as beautiful as yours to be forever closed." Entreri growled, so very close to Dusk's face.

A wry smile began to spread across the lady's face, and she sized up just how close the assassin's dagger had come to her head.

The smile was gone quicker than it had come. In looking at the dagger, Dusk had seen that Entreri had cut through a piece of her hair. The man, still scowling at her, had no idea what he had just done.

"Bastard!" Dusk hissed into his face.

Incredibly fast, nearly faster than Entreri could register, the lady head-butted him. With the assassin momentarily dazed, she freed her arms from his iron grip. Holding him just under his arms, the woman brought her legs under the man and slammed him into the nearest wall.

Removing the dagger from the floor and standing up, the lady surveyed the damage done to her hair. Entreri hadn't cut off a very large piece, but it had been cleanly sliced at her shoulder level. She cursed. The considerable difference in length could be hidden, for it came from the underneath of her mass of hair, but such a long lock of it... a lock such as that Entreri had cut off meant something very special to one of Dusk's race.

Entreri had just unknowingly claimed the lady for his own, without her prior knowledge or permission. This was indeed a great insult upon her.

The woman knew that such had definitely not been his intent. That was what had made her so angry! She had only ever allowed one other to take a piece of her hair, and that one was long dead. The lady sighed, shook her head, and picked the long lock of her hair up off the floor. She figured that she should save it, and perhaps later on let the man know the foolish thing he did. Having no intentions of holding to the unwillingly made promise, the lady sighed again, wondering what should be done with the piece after that.

Entreri stirred on the floor, then. Dusk had hit him hard into the wall, knocked him unconscious, and had almost forgotten about him lying there. She chuckled gently. The man was spitting out a long stream of curses, rubbing his head and back. He tried to get up and winced at the pain in his wrist when he put his weight on it. Dusk chuckled a little more at the sight. She decided to leave the matter of her hair to be settled later on.

"You see what you have caused me to do? You were nearly fully mended, silly man, and now it seems that you need to be healed a little more." Said the lady, who began to mumble softly to herself.

The assassin began a grumpy retort. (Though, it sounded much less angry than when he had first come in.) With a wave of her hand, Dusk cut him off, lifting the man from the ground and floating him out of the room behind her. She brought him to the room beside hers, one with tile instead of soft carpeting a large bathtub in the middle of the floor. With another wave, she let Entreri down and shut the door behind them. He looked at her, uncomfortable with being floated around.

"I could have walked here, you know." The assassin said, his tone dry.

"Ah, but would you have? You do not trust me in the least, that would be easy to see, even if I could not get into your head..." She paused. "...And that bothers you, too. I shall keep out of your thoughts then, from now on... unless you tell me otherwise." The lady promised, one that she would keep, Entreri hoped.

"Anyhow, if you wish to finish your bath undisturbed, then I will leave you. Though, you look at me as if you've had a bad experience with bathtubs... why is this?" Dusk asked. The man looked at her, brow furrowed.

_Why would she care?_ Entreri thought, and to his relief, Dusk did not answer. She just stared at him, her green eyes sparkling at him. He had to laugh at her then. The expression woman had on looked like that of a little girl begging for a story.

"The last time I was in one..." The man began, hardly believing himself. Perhaps the woman's eyes held some magic, as well, for he could not resist their expression. She had just knocked the hell out of him, and yet, he found himself unable to find any anger left. "...It fell through the floor, almost with me in it. The moment I stepped onto its edge, it just..." He continued, watching the smile that had begun to form on Dusk's face. "...The floor just gave way.

"And if I got into this one, something similar would probably happen, and you would laugh at my misfortune, as you are trying so very hard not to do now."

The lady was doing a fairly good job at holding in her mounting giggles, until Entreri said, "Oh, be my guest! Go ahead and laugh all you wish. I know I certainly did when I saw the face of the woman on the floor below me, when the thing nearly fell on top of her!"

Artemis put on his best mimic of the woman he'd described (which did not fit well on his face in the least), and Dusk could no longer contain herself. She burst out laughing, and decided it better to sit down upon the floor rather than to fall down. This was the opportunity Entreri had been waiting for.

He scooped up the lady as she bent down, throwing her over his shoulder. She giggled something unintelligible, probably wondering what he was doing. Not worrying about what she was saying, he walked across the room to the bathtub.

Pulling Dusk off his shoulder, he brought her face close to his, and whispered; "You try it first." And then dropped her into the tub, completely dressed. She put on her best scowl, and stared hard at Entreri.

"You see lady, it isn't very wise to try and be cheeky with a man like me, especially if he is one who could cut out your lovely green eyes faster than you could bat them. You are very lovely, and I am still sorely indebted to you, but…" The assassin paused.

So intent was he on judging Dusk's reaction that he didn't see her begin to move her arms beneath her body. She watched the assassin carefully, trying to seem angered by his words. In truth, sitting in the water in all of her clothes didn't bother her too much. Her boots might suffer some, but would not be damaged beyond repair. The dress she wore was used to the treatment, and wouldn't be harmed either. The lady found being dumped into the water fairly funny, but did well not to let Artemis know that.

Entreri began to say something else, though Dusk had other plans for him. In the blink (or bat... :) of an eye, she shot her lower body out of the water, wrapping her muscled legs around his stomach. The woman pulled down on him and spun herself over, slamming the man into the water. She sat upon his chest, low enough so that his head was above the water level. (Which was much shallower by then, from the two big splashes they had made.)

"And so, Artemis Entreri, what have we learned today? I should temper my nature, perhaps? Though, perhaps today's lesson is for you. For one, don't think that you know me, for you certainly do not. Two, don't you ever threaten me again; I really do not wish to kill you.

"And, finally, dear assassin, do not tell me what kind of man I can and cannot be cheeky with. I know you have little interest in women in general, but believe me... I could wear down your every defense if I so chose. I am no stranger to males who would perceive me as a detriment to them, and know how to change such thinking." Dusk said.

She expected some fight from him, and was surprised that she had gotten none. The lady had Entreri pinned into the tub well and would not have let him attack anyway, but still, she had expected to be fought. Perhaps she had gained a bit more respect from the man in her quick maneuver and her earlier beating.

Dusk jumped up then, and flipped over the back of the bathtub. She walked towards the door, dripping wet, and left Entreri to his bath. Just before she shut the door, she did turn and look at the man once more. He had pulled himself to a sitting position, and stared back at her. The lady wore her usual smirk once more, and her eyes flared at him.

"In fact, my dear, men like you are the best kind to be cheeky with. You are a troublesome lot, though, for some reason that I cannot find, I actually prefer men like you." She said to the assassin, and closed the door.

Entreri sat still, watching where Dusk had been standing. He resisted the urge to call her back, putting a hand to his chin. The man stroked his overgrown goatee, pondering what the lady had just said. His thoughts dwelled on her last sentence. Why had she told him that? To put him off balance, perhaps? He was not sure whether to be flattered or upset.

And, the assassin wondered, how many men like him had Dusk known? They were rare, he had thought. Most men were weak in general, and this he was not. So, the lady could not truly have any clue as to what she was talking about. She appeared to be far too young. But yet, somehow, she knew his type well; and had shown this to him without doubt. Entreri thought for a moment longer, until he was hit by a slightly disturbing revelation.

He had been thinking back to everything he remembered the strange woman saying, anything that could give him some clue. The image of the familiar kiss Jarlaxle had given her stood out in his mind. Entreri wondered; how much time had the drow spent on the surface, here with Dusk, to know her well enough for her to allow him such a kiss?

As far as the assassin knew, Jarlaxle had spent all of his life in the underdark. He was on the surface now, but had not been for very long... barely a few years. The man was sure that Jarlaxle had been on the surface before, but only for short periods. Artemis could never be sure of the mercenary, but something within him told him that the drow had been truthful in telling him such.

The answer to how Dusk knew Entreri's nature so very well hit him then.

If she spent a while in Menzoberrenzan, then she would have known a million other ruthless assassins, also masters of their work, but with no sense of honor whatsoever. They were drow, after all. That would also explain how she had come to so closely befriend Jarlaxle. He was an honorable creature, if he so chose. Perhaps the lady had met up with other drow like him... the band of mercenaries Jarlaxle had led? That would put her at an incredible age for her youthful appearance. The most powerful human mage, wizard, cleric… any human magic user would generally look far closer to their true age.

Entreri though a while longer on this, knowing that he had caught onto something. He would have to inquire of Dusk about her heritage, (and had some strange feeling that he already had, but dismissed it) for no entire band of drow would accept a human female well enough for her to know what was in their hearts.

So, the lady must not be human, nor could she be something the drow consider lesser... which is nearly every other race. _And, she has too much kindness in her to be drow..._ The assassin thought, which was so very true. The man had angered Dusk, he knew that with certainty. Yet he still lived, which let Entreri rule out her being drow.

He sat in the bath a while longer, thinking to ask the lady about her heritage later on. The assassin needed to find out one way or another, to learn how to defeat her magic, and learn of her weaknesses... and figure out why she had gotten so terribly ired when he had hacked off a piece of her hair.

* * *

Dusk leaned on the staircase banister, watching Jeaden and Jarlaxle come in the back door. The dark elf motioned for the little boy to stay where he was, and started cautiously walking towards the stairs. Dusk smiled. She leaned out further on the banister, gathering up her soaking wet dress in her hands. The lady waited there, absolutely still, until Jarlaxle was directly beneath her... then squeezed a large amount of water from the dress on top of his bald head. The drow snapped his head up and furrowed his brow at her. He took one look at her soaking form.

"Please tell me you did not drown the man." Jarlaxle said, speaking of Entreri. He tentatively levitated up to the top landing, wondering if it would let out before he got there. It didn't, to his surprise, and the mercenary was soon standing beside Dusk, who chuckled at him.

"No..." the lady answered cryptically. Jarlaxle started to shake his head. Entreri had been foolish to come up after her, but still... Dusk smiled at the drow, and chuckled again. "He is alive. But I think there is something wrong with him. He did something incredibly stupid. And later on made a silly face at me, you know... and then threw me in the bathtub."

Jarlaxle slapped a hand to his forehead. Either Entreri was still not himself or he had no idea of who he was toying with. The mercenary thought the latter was more correct. Entreri knew that Dusk was fairly powerful, would have to know from the way she cured and healed him. But he seemed to think that, physically at least, she was no match for him. Jarlaxle knew that Dusk was, at the least, as good in a fight as the assassin. Perhaps she had taught him such.

"He... just threw you in?" The dark elf asked, rubbing his temples. The lady nodded, and grinned. "And, knowing you, you pulled him right in with you... didn't you?" Again Dusk nodded, her grin widening. Jarlaxle continued.

"So, if I went in to tell him how foolish he is acting, I would find either a very disturbed or very pleased Artemis Entreri sitting in that tub..." He mumbled something, and looked at the lady, who was holding a laugh. "...In soaking wet clothes, just like yourself?" The drow finished, honestly wondering about the answer to his last questioning statement.

Dusk bit her lip, and looked at her friend. His eyes had gone wide, and he was starting at her, pleading for her to give a positive response to his question. Jarlaxle knew Entreri fairly well, and knew that he normally wouldn't let any woman get too near to him. But he also knew Dusk, though never knew her to be so promiscuous with a complete stranger. She didn't even know the man, after all. The lady thumped Jarlaxle lightly in the chest.

"You are so adorable when you worry!" She said, her grin not diminished in the least. "You shall find the beautiful assassin sitting as you described..." she let the mercenary hang on her words for a moment. "...In his soaking wet clothes. I will need to find some others for him soon, that is, unless he doesn't mind walking around without any." Followed by an evil little grin, letting Jarlaxle know that she wouldn't mind a naked assassin walking around at all.

"And you should not look at me so! You know me far better, and know to trust me more than your expression shows." The lady finished with a chuckle. "But he will need a bit more time to heal…" She trailed off, still grinning.

Jarlaxle stared at the lovely woman, a grin grown on his face as well. He had not seen this side of his dear friend in at least fifty years. The drow laughed at her, and kissed her cheek.

"I fear for Entreri. You shall end up killing him one of these days, you know. Though finding out how will prove intriguing." Jarlaxle said, with a small chuckle. Dusk looked back at him and smiled.

"You have said something similar in the past, my dear, and you were wrong then. Perhaps, as things seem to happen these days, history will repeat itself." The lady said. "Though I do admit... I had a better start then." She laughed, remembering the scene earlier. The image of Jarlaxle and Jeaden creeping up on an unsuspecting Entreri would forever stay in her mind.

"Oh dear..." Dusk breathed. That image of the two elves jogged another memory, one that put Jeaden right at the bottom of the stairs. She peered over the banister, hoping that the boy had not just heard their entire conversation. It seemed that the lady had been lucky, for the little one was lying on the floor, fast asleep. (The child had hardly slept the night before, had instead stayed up bothering Jarlaxle and checking on his aunt.)

The lady smiled... how she did love children. Dusk pulled Jarlaxle over to look at the sleeping child, then hugged the drow and walked down to the boy. She picked him up, levitating back up to the landing, and down the hall to where Jeaden usually slept. There she laid him on the bed, pulled a light blanket over him and softly kissed his forehead.

Jarlaxle walked in behind her. He tried to smooth out the wrinkles in her now drying dress, having little success. At this Dusk giggled softly, bidding the mercenary to follow her to her own room. He did follow, and shut the door behind them. The drow tried to help the lady out of her still clinging dress, but she would not allow him. She managed to wriggle out of it and proceeded to snap it at her would be helper.

The mercenary leapt back from the impromptu weapon, knowing that a snap from Dusk would sting for hours. She was only fooling with him, though, and he knew that as well. Seeing that her ploy had been discovered, the lady ran and leapt at Jarlaxle, nearly knocking him to the floor.

"Beautiful, my sweet... just perfect!" Said the laughing black elf. "Now there are three of us soaking wet, and at least two of us, though I cannot say which, are in need of a harem!"

"Then I suppose it would be we two, since your friend seems to be more interested in killing things than in any female..." Dusk laughed. Jarlaxle cocked and eyebrow and put on a sly grin. "...But I must go! Much to my dismay, your lovely Entreri shall need something else to wear and has nothing with him but what he has on; and his pants at least, are in the bathtub with him!" Jarlaxle's grin turned to a slight pout, which Dusk kissed lightly.

The lady let go of him and practically dove into her closet, looking for something to put on. A moment later, she came out, and looked around the place for her belt. That she found; somehow it had been put in her bed. Dusk grabbed a brush, and with some effort got her wet hair untangled. It hadn't been very messy, but she just had so much hair that it took a moment to brush through. And, hiding the piece that was so much shorter than the rest from Jarlaxle's watchful eye was not easy, either.

Walking up to Jarlaxle, she patted his chest, bidding him a farewell.

"I shall soon return, with some clothes for Artemis... and something else that he could drink." And she giggled, remembering the man staggering around her room earlier that morning.

She looked to Jarlaxle and asked if he needed anything; to which he answered something dirty in reply. To that, Dusk laughed and hugged him one final time. She told him to watch over Jeaden, and tell the boy of her business if he awoke before she returned. The drow would do as she asked, the lady knew.

Passing a hand over the left side of her face, she hid her tattoo. She pulled a hand through her hair, changing its color to a slightly less noticeable blonde. (The lady did not want the entire town to know she was about, not wanting to be delayed by the hordes of kids who would want to say hello.) And so with that, she left the room (and the house, and the very mountain) in a fine cloud of mist.

Jarlaxle stood for a minute, looking where Dusk had been. _She left me with a little elf boy and a sopping wet, constantly grumpy assassin... rapture!_

_

* * *

_

Artemis Entreri stepped out of the bathtub, looking around for something to dry off his pants with. He spotted a large towel on a table across the room. He walked over, picked up the towel and attempted to squeeze the water from his pants when he noticed something else on the table. There sat some of the contents of his pack. It seemed that someone (most likely Dusk, he thought) had gone through the pack before he had awoken that morning, and picked out his razor and small mirror. He chuckled at this.

"You somehow knew that I would end up in here one way or another, didn't you lady? If it was in fact you who went through my things, I shall have to speak with you." Entreri said quietly, somewhat expecting Dusk to be in hearing range.

"I suppose that you imply my need to shave?" The man said a little louder. He had heard the creak of a floorboard not a moment ago, and had thought the lady to be about. Artemis looked around the room, seeing no one and hearing nothing more.

"It would have been good of you to leave my gauntlet here as well. But then I might be able to pick up some of your magic, and know your whereabouts before you startled me. Perhaps you would like to watch me begin to shave and then appear out of nowhere. Wouldn't you find something funny in my nearly cutting off half of my face!" Entreri continued, mumbling dryly. He still thought the lady to be somewhere near, but could not be sure.

Entreri did hear a light chuckle behind him then. Though, it was far too deeply toned to be Dusk, who he had been expecting. He turned again to see Jarlaxle standing in the doorway.

"I do not think she would find such a scene too amusing. You see, the lady likes your face, and would hate to see it maimed so." The drow mercenary said casually.

Entreri was not sure he wanted to know just how long Jarlaxle had been listening to the goings on of the room, unnoticed. The dark elf continued on.

"Actually, Dusk is not here at all. She went down into town to find something for you to wear. The dear woman, she did not want you walking about in wet clothes, even after the way you have so far reacted to her kindness.

"And, upon that note, it was not her intention to startle you this morning while you were trying to eat, nor did she know that you would so react to the drink she put beside you. The lady had originally planned on your bathing in here, but you insisted otherwise! Then you stalk in here, planning to at least put her in a lot of pain, angry at her for something that was your own fault." Jarlaxle spat at the man, not happy with him at all. "And, on top of all of that, you decide to throw her into the very bath she had prepared for you. Such ways to show gratitude you have! Please do tell me, where did you learn it?"

Jarlaxle bored his stare into the assassin, his hands moving now and then towards his hidden daggers. Apparently, he was waiting for some sort of explanation from Entreri. The man watched the uncharacteristic anger on his companion's face, sighing.

"The woman baffles me. I have known her, and been coherent in what I have known for only a short time and she frustrates me to no end. The lady insists upon calling me 'darling' and the like, which I cannot stand, and she is one of the very few who have ever truly caught me unawares. That she has exploited as much as possible." Entreri paused.

"My every misfortune is incredibly funny to her, and as the trend has gone in these few short hours that I have known her, she has caused those misfortunes. I cannot begin to even attempt to understand what goes on in her head, and yet, your sweet Dusk, though she insists that she will not, seems to be reading my every thought.

"And, as far as I can tell, there is no reason for her not to have killed me yet. Apparently the lady has some plan for me, and refuses to let me in on it." Entreri said, finally touching upon what really bothered him about the woman. "It seems that, for all my experience, I can find no way around her magic. I can find no way to defeat the strange spell she has put upon me. If she were any other, she would be long dead... but I do owe her my very life, and that bothers me more than a little. I believe that I should fear whatever she might ask in return." He whispered, puzzling over the thought.

Jarlaxle watched the assassin, his uncharacteristic burst of anger gone. The man sat down in the chair beside the table holding his things. The mercenary smiled, remembering back many, may years ago. Dusk had this sort of effect on others before Entreri, Jarlaxle remembered, some century or so ago.

"You continue to draw breath because Dusk likes you, and because she understands you." Jarlaxle said to Entreri, calmer now.

"She frustrates you so because you cannot control her... and she has cast no spell on you other than those that healed you yesterday. Her nature is strange, I'll agree to that, and you don't like it in the least. But I tell you something, my friend. That strange, green-eyed beauty will grow on you like a fungus. Soon enough, you will forget any anger towards her and learn to enjoy her odd nature."

"Then we should be leaving sooner." Entreri mumbled to himself, stroking his overgrown goatee.

Jarlaxle sorted through his mumbling, and chuckled at the assassin once again. The man looked up at him, loosing a slight chuckle at the knowing look on the drow's face. Artemis shook his head.

"If I have been able to stand the likes of you for this long, I should learn to deal with your Dusk... though if she calls me something anything close to 'darling' again, I'm not quite sure what I shall do. And she bit me..." Entreri continued.

Apparently he remembered Dusk's way of keeping him awake, and did not appreciate it much. The man looked back at Jarlaxle, hoping that the mercenary could explain why the lady had chosen to bite him, instead of slapping him or the like.

"Yes, the lady Dusk does bite fairly hard when she wants your attention." The drow replied, offering no explanation. He snickered a bit, walked towards the door, and turned to regard Entreri.

"You know, you really should shave, or at least trim your beard. You are in the company, or will be when she returns, of a refined lady. And, at the time, you look more like a wild barbarian than a controlled assassin, who should be under there someplace."

With that Jarlaxle nodded, grinned, and left the room.

Entreri sat for a minute, ever amazed at the dark elf's mannerism. He turned upon the chair he sat in and took up his mirror. Regarding his ragged appearance, he made a disgusted sound, and shook his head. Indeed, the drow had been correct in assessing what he looked like at the time.

The assassin picked up his mirror from the table once more and dragged the chair over next to the bathtub. He began to shave the sides of his handsome face, trying to maneuver around his overgrown goatee and sideburns. This was tough work, and took some time, so grown out was the hair on his face. But he managed, then took up a pair of scissors Dusk had left for him, and trimmed his goatee a bit.

Moments later, Artemis Entreri was looking much more like himself. He searched around the room for the shirt he had been wearing (not remembering that he had left it outside), finding it nowhere. Though, he did find another towel, and began once more to try and dry out his pants. Then an idea came to him. The man had seen a big fluffy couch on his way up to the second floor, in a small den. He decided that he would go back downstairs and plop himself down, soaking pants and all, onto that couch. If Dusk wished to toy with him, perhaps he would toy back.

Entreri went down the stairs wearing a wry grin.


	4. What the Darkness Brings

Chapter 4: What the Darkness Brings

Jeaden Tren'dmis awoke, two hours after his aunt had left the house. The little elven boy swung his legs out of his bed. He did a small hop to the floor and sluggishly headed out, dragging the blanket Dusk had covered him with behind him. It was not at all cold, but the child wrapped the entire blanket around himself, pulling part of it over his head.

The little elf walked as noisily as he possibly could down the hall, making huge strides for such tiny legs, towards his aunt's bedroom. Jeaden pulled a hand out from underneath the blanket and grabbed the doorknob. It would not budge.

_Locked? How come?_ Thought the little boy, and shook the handle of the door. _Maybe she's takin' a bath now... but she never locks the door..._ He shrugged his shoulders. When it was warm as it was at the time, Dusk often let Jeaden sit in her rather large bathtub with her, and he almost always started splash fights. These were always spontaneous, never planned. Jeaden would just walk into the room with the grin that every child up to some thing wears... and the door would never be locked.

Jeaden lightly knocked on the door. He waited a moment, but got no answer. The boy knocked again, much harder, and called; "Dusky?" The little elf heard quiet grumble, and some slight movement within the room. He chewed his bottom lip, trying to come up with an idea of how to open the door. The child no longer believed that his aunt was in the room, or in the house for that matter, at all. If she were, the lady would have opened the door before he even got to it.

The elven child then remembered a simple spell Dusk had taught him once. His sister had locked him out of the house when his parents weren't at home, and he had gone all the way up to his aunt for a solution. The spell she taught him would open nearly any door (he had tested it out on his sister when he had gotten home), so perhaps it would work on this one. The boy stood in thought for a bit, making sure that he remembered the spell correctly.

Jeaden put his tiny hands around the doorknob and chanted softly. The spell needed to be cast quietly; else the door it was meant to open would be literally blown from its hinges. He continued the chant, speeding up towards the end, and then blowing softly on the door. It swung open easily.

The boy jumped up in the air happily. He had not been sure the spell would work on the door of the one who had taught him the spell. Jeaden giggled a bit, creeping into the room as quietly as he could.

Lying on the bed was Jarlaxle, peering secretly at the boy. _Perhaps if the little one thinks me sleeping, he'll leave me be this time!_ The drow thought, for Jeaden had kept him up for most of the last night. He closed his eyes again when the child crept closer.

Jeaden stifled a laugh (one of those demonic little kid laughs). The elven child pulled his blanket tighter around his head, and, in all stealth he could muster started running towards the bed. At the last second before hitting the hard frame, the boy leapt up into the air. He landed upon Jarlaxle's supposedly sleeping form, a little too hard for the mercenary to keep up his facade of slumber.

"Child, what in the_ hell _are you trying to do? Kill me?" Jarlaxle cried.

He pulled the giggling boy, who seemed to be trying to tickle him, off and held Jeaden over him at arms length.

"Uh uh! I just saw you sleepin an I was wondering wha you were doin' sleepin in my auntie's bed! An then I don't know where she is neither, so I thought I'd ask you, cause tha one guy who wasn't wearin anything before doesn't like me, an he's grumpy anyhow, an I like you better!"

Jarlaxle heaved a sigh and shook his head. He wondered how angry Dusk would be if he tied the child up in a closet. The mercenary figured that it would not be wise to try it and find out, but Jeaden would simply not allow him a moment's peace! The boy had a certain charm that kept Jarlaxle from killing him, but how much longer could he stand the child?

"Little one, if I tell you where your aunt is, will you promise to leave me be for at least a few hours more?" Asked the exasperated mercenary. To this Jeaden nodded, and grinned his childish grin.

"All right, remember your promise now!" Jarlaxle told the boy, letting him know what could happen if the boy did forget. "The lady went into town for a while to get a few things, and she should be back fairly soon. Why don't you go downstairs and wait for her? I'm sure she'd be happy for the gesture."

Jeaden's grin widened, happy to please his aunt. He wrapped his little arms around Jarlaxle's head in a tight hug. The little boy squeaked happily and looked at the drow.

"You just gave me the bestest idea in the whole world!" Jeaden exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm gonna go make auntie dinner, an then she'll come home and be soooooooooooo happy, an you get to sleep too! Oh oh! What does the grumpy guy like? I can make him something too, an maybe he won't be so grumpy at me... an you! You get something really special, cause you gave me the idea!"

Jeaden jumped off the bed and bolted out the door. Jarlaxle stood to follow and groaned, rubbing his eyes. The child had said something about making dinner for them all, which frightened the drow profoundly. He knew he had to keep to boy from going anywhere near the kitchen, for if he got to make the dinner he so desired to, he would probably burn the house down.

_Either that, or we shall all be deathly ill by the end of the night..._ Jarlaxle thought. If the child managed to cook something without killing them all, then whatever it was would probably do the job just as well. Jarlaxle had started to walk wearily to the door when Jeaden poked his head in.

"Wha's his name?" The boy asked.

"Whose..." Jarlaxle replied, puzzled. He realized that the boy must be asking of Entreri, being the only "he" who was left not standing in Dusk's doorway. "Oh, Entreri. You did not..."

The drow was cut off by Jeaden, who went running down the hall, yelling.

"Entreeeeeerrin! Aw, wait no... ENTRERIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Jarlaxle's mouth dropped open. He knew the man was not at all fond of the boy... what if he was asleep, and the child woke him?

"Jeaden get back here!" Jarlaxle whispered harshly to the boy. He cursed when the only answer he got was another yell from Jeaden, still trying to find the assassin. Then to himself he said; "She'll kill me."

If Entreri laid a hand on that boy, or if Jeaden started playing in the kitchen like he had wanted to... either way, there would be one huge mess. Jarlaxle was to be minding the boy and making sure Entreri behaved himself as well. (If one could ever truly keep that man in line.)

Should something happen, much of the blame could be put squarely on Jarlaxle. Dusk loved him, but so help him if any harm came to the boy!

Jarlaxle ran out of the room, slid down the banister upon reaching the stairs, and ran with all haste on Jeaden's heels.

* * *

The elven maiden slowed her mount, cresting one more hill. She took a moment to look upon the lovely sunset. She sighed. How many times had she and one of her dearest friends sat upon a high balcony and watched this same scene? It was always different somehow, always turning to show a new facet in the beauty of the sunset.

The elf shook away the fond memories. Her dear friend might be in great danger now, and here she was, dawdling. She kicked her mount, running the beast as fast as she might. More than the maiden's friend could be in danger, her own son was with the woman!

The maiden leapt from her horse, not bothering to tether it. She paused for a moment, standing in front of the house belonging to her dear friend, listening.

She heard a child's scream, a crash, and another scream... and bolted into the house, readying her bow.

* * *

Artemis Entreri, sitting silent and unseen up on top of a bookshelf, chuckled at the scene unfolding below him. He had climbed up hearing Jeaden tearing through the house, yelling his name. The assassin wanted to keep away from the child if at all possible.

Besides, the man wasn't entirely sure he wished to find out what the boy wanted of him. Especially then... he had heard Jarlaxle trying to catch the child, running into things and calling for the boy to stop his foolishness. Jeaden would then run by, screaming hysterical laughter. He would find someplace to hide, wait for Jarlaxle to come near to passing his hiding place, and run out in the other direction.

_Better to let Jarlaxle deal with him..._ The assassin thought. He had toyed with the idea of going to help the drow, but dismissed it. Entreri was enjoying the show far too much to stop it.

It seemed that Jarlaxle was having plenty of trouble trying to do just that. The little one was quick and agile, and, though the drow was even more so, he simply could not catch Jeaden. The boy knew every place to hide, everything that could possibly slow the dark elf down. To him, it was all a big game, and it seemed that he played often. Though the boy had the advantage of knowing the layout of the house very well; Jarlaxle did not have such an advantage. He had been to the place only a few times, and had never taken a tour running at top speed. Apparently, the boy had done this before.

Jeaden rounded a sharp corner into the room where Entreri hid. The child veered towards the bookcase, as if he were going to run straight into it, Jarlaxle right on his heels.

The perched assassin grinned. _Do not disappoint me, drow..._ The man thought, _...you would never fall for a child's trick such as this one... _Though he held faith in Jarlaxle's prowess, he chuckled at the thought of the drow actually hitting the bookcase. Entreri watched, amused, as Jarlaxle came running in to grab the boy.

Though, the amused smile turned to one of shock, as he noticed Jeaden. There was a small rug in front of the bookcase, which the boy stepped lightly on and pushed behind him, right under Jarlaxle's feet.

Jeaden pulled away from the bookcase at the last possible moment. But Jarlaxle had no such luck. He deftly kept his footing somehow, but eventually came careening into Entreri's perch. Most of the books fell out, one landing on the drow's foot, sending him yelping and hopping away from the thing. The assassin teetered on the bookcase, trying to balance the thing out before it dumped him off and straight into the front door. He succeeded and settled back into a crouch, watching.

Jeaden turned about, to see if his beloved new friend had been seriously hurt. The drow took the advantage of the child's sitting still, and tackled him. Jeaden laughed and squeaked at Jarlaxle as he held the boy up over his head. The drow stood, still holding Jeaden.

"Little one..." Jarlaxle said, breathing heavily, "...the next time I tell you to be still, you must listen! We have now made a lovely mess of your aunt's house, as you can see, and..."

"And now it is time for you to get your rancid hands off that boy!" A calm female voice called from behind him.

The drow heard the click of a notched arrow and froze in place. He placed Jeaden's feet gently down on the floor, and the boy ran from the room at top speed. Jarlaxle then turned around to face the lady. He began to say something to her, ask her what she was doing in the house, but she cut him off.

"There is a young human woman who lives here. It is said that she had a man here, guided by my son, who was supposedly injured." Said she, with a growl. "You are going to tell me exactly what you have done with both of them, and perhaps I shall spare your pathetic life."

Leena Tren'dmis knew that she was well overmatched by this strange drow elf, but she had to make him think that she was much more powerful than she actually was. She had learned enough about the drow race to know that he wouldn't dare attack her if he thought that he would be defeated. More or less, drow were tricksters and would try to bargain their way out of trouble. The elf maiden hoped that was so with this drow, that he would not call her bluff.

Jarlaxle had no intentions of attacking the elf in the first place, but not because she seemed more powerful than he. Apparently, this was Jeaden's mother, which meant that she was probably a friend to Dusk. Hence, Jarlaxle knew that the maiden should not be harmed.

_But,_ he thought, _how am I to keep her from harming me?_ The elf had her bow trained on his heart, and seemed to have no intentions of moving her aim. Jarlaxle, though, was sure that he could get out of being shot.

"The lady Dusk went to get something for the injured man you spoke of... dressings, I believe..." Jarlaxle began. The things he was telling the elf weren't far from the truth, actually. He continued.

"Yes, that was it exactly. He has a broken wrist, you see, and he was losing blood until the lady patched him up with what bandages she did have. She left earlier this afternoon, headed for the very place you came from, if I remember correctly." The clever drow kept talking to the woman.

He had a few ideas on how to get a hold of that bow, which was still aimed at his heart. Many of his first ideas relied on the use of the numerous magical items he had at his disposal, but in order to use those he would have to move, and that he knew would get him shot at.

"You lie, foolish drow. Had she been moving toward our town, I would have seen her upon the trail here." Spat the elven woman.

Jarlaxle looked puzzled for a moment. Did this elf not know what Dusk was capable of? The drow realized that this must be true. Dusk might not wish to risk the knowledge of her true bloodline getting loose, and so she was posing as a human magic user of some kind. She had been doing it for many years now, so why should she risk all by dropping a fine ruse? Jarlaxle sat appreciating the lady's ability to hold such a ruse for so very long, but realized that he still had not solved his current predicament. He could congratulate the lady later on.

"Listen, Madam, can we not at least be civil until our common friend returns? I assure you that no harm has come to her, or to your son for that matter." Jarlaxle said softly.

The elf's scowl faltered for a fraction of a second at the mention of her son. She did not seem surprised that the drow had caught the resemblance, but more so that the boy had indeed just run by her, seemingly fine.

"What of the human? I was told that he was injured. Was that your doing?" Asked the elf incredulously. She turned her head sharply at the sound of another voice, but kept her bow trained on Jarlaxle's chest.

"I was indeed injured for a time. But, no, it was not by his hand." Entreri spoke up, stepping from the shadows beside the bookcase. He fixed the maiden in his cool gaze. "I would be much obliged if you would put away your fine bow. You see, the lady of the house would be very upset should either of us be harmed. I do believe that she is rather fond of him, especially." The assassin gestured to Jarlaxle.

The drow himself was rather surprised. Entreri was the last person that he would expect to come to his aid, especially since the man had nothing to gain from such a thing. In fact, Entreri had just put himself into as much potential danger as Jarlaxle. The drow nodded silent thanks to him for his uncharacteristic generosity.

Jarlaxle spotted a tiny blonde head sticking past the kitchen doorway. Jeaden stood there, looking as though he hadn't realized what was happening. The boy had been waiting, hidden from sight, for his mother or Jarlaxle to pick the chase back up again. He peeked out further and finally took in the whole scene. His eyes widened fearfully as he came to understand that his mother's bow was notched and quite ready to fire at his newfound friend. The boy bolted from the kitchen and attached himself to Jarlaxle's waist. The drow tried to push him away, incase an errant arrow flew from his mother's bow, but the boy would not release his hold.

"Mommy, don' hurt him!" Jeaden craned his head around to look at his mother. The little one looked as though he might cry, and Leena stood in shock. "I know he's a dark drow an' all tha, but he's a nice dark drow, mommy! He played chase all over the house with me an' he was jus about ta help me make dinner for Dusky, really he was! Jus wait for Dusky an' she'll tell ya that he's nice, honest!" The boy's babbling turned into sudden sobbing, and he clung to Jarlaxle even tighter.

Leena Tren'dmis stood very still. The dark elf caught her gaze and spread his hands out wide, letting her know in no uncertain terms that he had no intentions of harming her son. He certainly could, but he refused to, his eyes told her.

_This is madness. _Thought the elven woman. _Outright and utter madness. This drow is using no magic upon Jeaden, yet my little one begs that I not harm this creature. He is trying to defend the drow's life with his own! And the human defends him as well… _Leena lowered her bow at last, but did not remove the arrow. More than one goodly drow in this world was far too much to hope for, but she found herself wondering all the same. Finally she found her voice.

"Jeaden, who are these men?" She asked gently.

The boy sniffled and wiped at his nose with one sleeve, but still did not release his hold on the drow. "This is Jarlaxle, mommy, and tha's Entrerin." The assassin raised an eyebrow at the mispronunciation of his name. "He's a little grumpy, but he's nice too, an' Dusky likes him, so don' hurt him either. Please, mommy, put the bow away like Entrerin says cause they won' hurt anybody I promise."

The elf truly had no idea what to do, but she wasn't given much time to decide, either. Her bow and saber were suddenly taken from her and tossed out of reach. She found herself staring into a pair of impossibly green eyes. Reflexively, Leena jumped back and punched at the person in front of her, only to have her arm caught and held still. She blinked at the familiar face of her dearest friend, quite startled to find the lady there all of a sudden.

"Hello, Leena. I am quite happy to see you, of course, even though you've never greeted me in such a fashion before." Dusk smiled at her friend. "I see you have already met my guests."

* * *

A moonlit sky found Leena and Jeaden Tren'dmis, Jarlaxle, Artemis Entreri and Dusk all seated in various couches and a cushy chair about the den. Much had been explained in the past few hours, mostly to the elven maiden. Dusk and Jarlaxle had spoken at length with her over the goings on of the past day and a half. Although the two did leave out a few small things, Leena listened with good grace, though her mind whirled with many, many questions. Surprisingly, Jeaden said close to nothing, but merely curled up on the couch between the drow and Dusk. After the lady had calmed his mother enough, she had led them all here, and the boy had laid himself across the two, clinging fiercely to Jarlaxle's legs. This surprised the drow quite a bit, for he thought that the still shaken child would go straight to his mother. He was slightly uncomfortable, though quite touched by the gesture.

Entreri said nothing at all during the entire conversation. He was a bit disturbed by it all, for though he did not remember everything that had happened, Dusk had obviously led the elven woman to believe much that was not true. For instance, she left out entirely what had only a night ago ailed the assassin, saying only that he had been injured and taken a fever. Entreri wondered why, but had kept his thoughts to himself.

Leena sighed finally, after long moments of contemplating Dusk and Jarlaxle's version of the happenings of the last few days. Everything did fit into place, but the maiden was still left with many burning questions. The dark elf was apparently with the small party that had traveled to see her friend, of that she was certain. Why, then, did the elves that had met up with the woman remember nothing of him? She voiced her questions on this matter to Dusk, who smiled slightly.

"Perhaps your dear brother thought not to worry you. Once he saw that I had things under control, that Jarlaxle was no threat to neither I nor Jeaden, he may have figured it best not to tell you that your son was in the company of a strange dark elf." She paused momentarily, patting Jeaden's outstretched little leg. "I think he was correct in his thinking, although he did err a bit in telling you nothing of my dear friend. Had I not returned…"

Dusk left the consequences of such an error unspoken, but Leena could figure out her meaning easily enough. Had the lady not shown up, the gentle elf might have uselessly harmed the strange drow, perhaps even killed him. Such thoughts troubled the maiden a little, but brought on even more disturbing questions. How _had _Dusk returned home so quickly? According to both the lady and the drow, she had gone into town, far below her home. The sheer timing of it was impossible; especially since the lady had indeed reached the town, returning with the items she had gone after. The trip down was nearly a full day's ride! To do even minor shopping and head straight back should have taken her into the next day, at least. Leena shook her head at the thoughts.

"How did you return so quickly?" The elf asked, exasperated. "The drow had told me that you had only been gone a few hours, but…"

Dusk cut her short with an outstretched hand.

"That is a tale within itself, one that will have to wait until another time, I am afraid." Leena started to protest, but the lady merely stood, crossed the room to her friend and kissed her forehead. The elven woman went silent once more.

"Worry no more, about any of it. You are weary and probably famished, as far as I can see. Would some dinner and a bit of rest not serve you better than more banter?" Asked Dusk with a smile, the inflections of her voice carrying to the elf with a bit more strength than that of a mere suggestion.

Jeaden's head came up from Jarlaxle's leg at the mention of food, and he was quick to pester his aunt about letting him help if she were to make supper. The drow chuckled at him, throwing Dusk a wink. The lady motioned Jeaden to her side with an outstretched hand. The boy beamed at Jarlaxle, squeezed his leg once more and leapt up to take the offered hand. Leena began to laugh at her son along with the drow. She looked up at Dusk.

"I suppose I am worrying a bit too much over things past, aren't I?" Leena stated, chuckling a bit at herself. The lady merely smiled. "And I certainly am hungry." She patted her son on the rump as he walked by her, then reached up to kiss Dusk and the boy each on the cheek.

"Do you need an extra hand, dear?" Dusk shook her head and looked at the boy, implying that she had all the help she could handle. Leena laughed aloud at the look of rapture on her son's face. "You mind Dusky, now. Do exactly as she tells you and nothing more. No 'secret ingredients' this time, okay sweetheart?"

Jeaden nodded sheepishly and started to pull his aunt toward the kitchen at the other end of the hall.

All the while, the silent Artemis Entreri sat privately gawking at the woman. Jeaden's mother had been brimming with questions, doubts, even. The perceptive assassin had seen it in the elf's face, and yet Dusk had dispelled all of that with only a few words. He thought that he understood a little bit of the lady's magic, then. There was something about her voice… he had thought it strange from the first he had clearly heard her speak and he was now fairly certain that some of her power, at least, laid within the odd resonance of her every word.

He wondered how long such a powerful suggestion would last, though, against the clever mind of the elven woman. What if she was able to shake it off, and began questioning Jarlaxle and Entreri while the lady was off preparing supper?

The assassin decided that such was a question that should be answered immediately, if only to avoid a possibly explosive confrontation with Leena Tren'dmis. He excused himself from his companion and the maiden and followed Dusk down the hall. He caught up with her in the kitchen archway.

"Lady, a word, if you would?" He whispered, taking a tentative hold upon the crook of her elbow.

She nodded ever so slightly to him and sent Jeaden to gather a few things from a garden the assassin hadn't known existed. Surprisingly, the lady let him lead her into the furthest corner of the kitchen. It was far from all doorways and the window, but still the assassin continued to whisper.

Dusk chuckled at him, putting a hand on his arm, which, to her delight, he did not jerk away.

"There is no need. The boy and his mother are both far enough away for you to speak freely. Unless, of course, you wish to say something that you do not wish even Jarlaxle to hear… then it would not matter either way, since he hears everything, eventually." She smirked slightly, amused at the assassin's worry.

* * *

Jarlaxle sat upon the couch were Dusk had left him, staring pensively up at the ceiling. He was slightly uncomfortable with the presence of the golden elf woman in the room, and so he tried not to look at her. The drow did believe in his friend's ability to hold the maiden under her spell, unlike Entreri, but still he knew that he had reason to be a bit wary. It was a simple matter of race. Jarlaxle did not mind Leena, he actually found her rather pleasant, but he held little illusion of the elf's impression of him. She would never trust him, he knew, and ever would he have to take care in his actions when she was around.

After a few moments of sitting in silence, and the sense that Jeaden's mother was watching him even now, Jarlaxle thought it prudent to be away from the woman. He stood and tipped his hat to her.

"Well madam, it has been very fine to meet you, but if you would please excuse me, I will retire for a while before supper." He said, bowing slightly.

Leena watched the dark elf step from the den, his boots clicking loudly upon the floor. She started at nothing for a moment, wondering at this strange creature. He was very polite, for a drow, and Dusk had no qualms with calling him a friend. Her own son seemed positively enamored of him, as well… but he was still a drow, and thus worthy of her suspicion. The elf sighed, and called quietly to the strange dark elf as she heard his foot hit the first of the stairs. She knew he would hear her, for his ears were perhaps keener than her own.

"Stay with me, drow. I would speak with you."

Jarlaxle's heel squeaked upon the stair. Not a moment later, he reappeared under the archway of the den, peering at the elf. She gestured to the couch Entreri had occupied earlier, motioning for him to sit so that he might face her squarely, but at a safe distance. The drow shrugged. He moved to the seat, allowing the maiden to take a measure of his confident stride before sitting down. He did not fear his surface cousin in the least, and he wanted her to know this. Jarlaxle could kill her easily if he so chose, but he did not, and Leena seemed to understand this. The drow reclined onto the couch, propping himself up onto one elbow. He nodded his head slightly, indicating that he was prepared to listen.

Leena snorted at his posture. "You look comfortable." She said, shaking her head.

The dark elf smiled, shifting himself further back onto one cushion.

"I am." He replied simply. He screwed up his face weirdly then, and slipped one hand beneath his body, frowning suddenly. "Well, I was, at least. These cushions are very wet in some places."

The surface elf laughed. "That would be my son's doing, in all likelihood."

Jarlaxle smiled ruefully at the thought of the boy. "It is true, the little one cannot stand to leave anything in proper order." He chuckled and sniffed at the couch. "But this is the work of my human companion, of that I am certain."

The elf made a non-committal sound, her thoughts turned elsewhere. The strange drow elf's companion was a mystery to her, an unreadable facet to an otherwise clear tale. The human had added nothing to the explanation for his and Jarlaxle's presence. He had merely watched the play of the conversation, seeming to take in each word and commit it to his memory. The man made Leena curious, especially in the manner that he had watched Dusk speak. His dark eyes were quick to train upon the lady when she spoke, and not only to take in her expression, the elf thought. He looked as though he were trying to figure the green-eyed beauty out, attempting to learn everything of her that could possibly be gleaned by careful study. Something more had briefly shown itself in the human's eyes, something deep and powerful, but it had disappeared as suddenly and inexplicably as it had come.

Something had happened to Artemis Entreri, and he did not wish to deal with whatever it might be. Leena knew this to be true of the man, although she could understand little else of him. He made the maiden worry for Dusk, and it was the more motherly feeling that she held for her friend that had compelled her to call the drow back. She meant to learn the human male's intentions as soon as possible, and thought that her dark cousin might give some insight to the man.

Leena locked her fingers together and sat back in her chair. "Your companion," She began carefully. "Why is he here?"

"He was injured, and quite sick as well. I knew that our mutual friend had the means to heal him, so of course I brought him to her. Were our explanations unclear?" Jarlaxle asked politely, raising an eyebrow.

"Certainly not, on that subject, at least. However, why the two of you journeyed to see Dusk in the first place is a little shadowed. This country is full of healers, and the whole situation makes me wonder if it would not have been far easier to take the human to the first you could find." The elf replied, peering incredulously at the drow.

"Ah, I see your meaning." He paused, thinking quickly on his feet. "Our reasons are quite simple, to tell the truth. I had not seen the lady in some time and I greatly missed her company. Artemis was with me when I thought to pay a visit, so I proposed that he come along and meet her. He was more than happy to do so, and, since neither of us had had any pressing business to attend to, here we are." Jarlaxle flippantly threw out his hands.

"Unfortunately, my friend ended up taking ill, and he broke his wrist shortly before we arrived here. Who better to care for him than the very lady he would soon meet?"

Leena eyed him strangely, no doubt running his words over in her mind to see if any hidden meaning lie behind them. A smile tugged at her lips, and the drow wondered why… Jarlaxle sincerely hoped that the maiden would take his story as truth. It was not entirely a lie, more a careful twisting of the reason for his and Entreri's journey. In all honesty, the assassin knew nothing of what his companion had in store for him, but the drow had sorely missed Dusk.

Had Jarlaxle given the elf the full and completely honest story, though, the clever ruse that his dear friend had created about herself would be smashed. Leena was very curious and very quick of mind, the dark elf knew. She would figure out the lady's identity with great ease if he allowed her to know even a fraction of what Dusk was capable of. He could not allow such a thing, and he needed to lead the elf to think that the woman was as normal as could be.

"Does that answer your question, my lady?" Jarlaxle asked after a moment, breaking the maiden's musings.

The elf finally allowed a smile to cut onto her face, the first true expression of mirth that the drow had seen in her. He relaxed, knowing that despite the untrustworthy nature of his race, she believed his reasons for coming. Jarlaxle thought that her smile was one of relief, for she had seemed to fear for the safety of her friend at the appearance of a drow elf and an obviously formidable human.

He was correct in gleaning the reason for her worry, but not that of her smile.

"Then the human is a suitor?" Leena asked with a little laugh.

Jarlaxle let his mouth fall open, and he sat up. This was not at all how he had planned his words to lead the maiden and it might cause quite a stir… Jarlaxle was certain that the assassin, at least, would be less than pleased to go along with such a thing.

"Your pardon?" He asked, trying to hide his surprise.

"This man, Artemis Entreri, would have the lady Dusk's hand." She looked at the drow's still shocked expression. "Well, were I in his place, I would make a try for her! It really comes as no surprise, what with a beautiful and clever human mage living all alone upon a wild mountain trail. Even many elven males seek to take her for a mate upon hearing tell of her."

"Oh dear…" Jarlaxle mumbled, putting a hand over his face.

_No good may come of this! _He thought, and was quite sure that he was correct. Nothing good could possibly come of playing out such games, indeed, but the drow was far too weary to attempt to think of something better. If it would dissuade the elven maiden from any further questions, then it would have to do. Perhaps it would be best to lead her as far from the truth as possible. Jarlaxle's quick mind began its careful planning, and in moments he had his start.

The drow took his hand from his face. "How did you figure that out? No one was supposed to know of his intentions until he was certain that Dusk would react favorably to his advances."

"Watch your friend carefully, for he hides his heart well. I have never seen such ability in a human to control what they feel, but on few rare instances since I have met him, there is something far deeper than a healthy respect when he looks upon that sweet girl." She paused, and Jarlaxle had to bite back a snort at her calling Dusk a 'girl'.

"But by all means, tell him to make his try! It is past due for her to take a husband; I have nagged at her for a few years now about living here all alone."

Jarlaxle could only nod. With not another word he lay back on the couch, tipped his hat once more to Leena and then pulled the ridiculously plumed thing down over his face to find some rest. He had nothing to fear from the elf woman, he knew, as long as he did nothing to provoke her, and so he allowed himself a light nap.

_Dusk will be greatly amused by all of this. _He thought. _And Entreri… I shall probably have to stay clear of him for a few days. No, he will not be pleased. _

Jarlaxle's hidden grin nearly took in his ears as he dropped off to sleep. He did so love to play games such as these. Upsetting Entreri might just be worth the fun!

* * *

The lady Dusk stared off into space for a brief moment, wondering. Though it was only the slightest few seconds, it was quite long enough to irritate the already wary Artemis Entreri. He had a few burning questions for her, and she knew this. At any given moment, Jeaden might come bounding back into the kitchen with the things she had sent him after, and the assassin knew that he had precious little time in which to have his answers. He was more annoyed than angry with her for even the slightest tarrying.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, trying to sound polite.

The lady pursed her lips. "Something amuses Jarlaxle greatly."

Entreri looked hard at her, knowing full well that she had just used the obviously formidable powers of her mind once again. Though Jarlaxle was many yards away, she could easily pick out what the drow was feeling without even having to try, he knew. It was such ability that had prompted the assassin to follow after her.

"You can do that at any given moment, can't you?" It was more a statement of fact than a question.

"I can." She smiled at him. "Does that bother you?"

"It does, indeed, though not nearly as much as your ability to seemingly change a being's very thoughts."

"Ah, you are quite perceptive, but not quite correct. You took notice of what I did to Leena, I suspect." He nodded, frowning. "I never do such things unless it is entirely necessary… it does not please me in the least. I will have you understand that I did not truly change her thoughts. That is quite a bit more difficult, and you would have known without a doubt what I had done." She told him, her smile quickly fading.

He took notice and forced the edge from his voice. "Then I would know what it was that you did."

She sighed. "It is more than curiosity that drives you to ask, isn't it? You remember that I gave you the same kiss upon your forehead just last night, and you could not deny my wishes then. You fear that I might now be able to manipulate you in other, less subtle ways because of it, am I right?"

Entreri blinked at her. She was entirely right, of course. The man's solitary mind refused to accept such control, and he would fight it with all of his considerable will. It disturbed him that he had been unable to fend off the subtle nudging that the lady had given him last night to curb his questioning and make him relax.

"You are indeed correct, and I wish you to tell me exactly how you did what you did."

"So that you might find a way to defeat those suggestions, in case I try to use them upon you again?" Dusk retorted, a pained expression crossing her face.

The assassin glared at her, thinking that she was reading his mind once again, despite her promise to desist. The lady closed her eyes, shaking her head.

"Do not look give me such looks, for they are wrongly placed. I do not intrude upon your mind, though I do know what you are thinking. I know you better than you could possibly understand. Perhaps, someday, I might explain that to you, but now is not the time. Nor can I tell you exactly how I did what I did to you, and just this day, to Leena. It is not something that I can put into words, but simply something innate.

"As for your worries, I believe that I still can alleviate them for you. Take comfort in what I tell you." She paused, opening her eyes. "If I so desired, I could control you. It might not be as easy as it would be with some others, for your will is quite strong. No matter, it would be possible for me to do so… but I do not, and I will not. Though I hardly know you, I have a great respect for you, assassin. I gave you my word last night that I would not intrude upon your thoughts, and I shall give it again. Your mind will always be your own. I shall never manipulate you as you so fear."

Dusk turned away from him then, and the man found himself at a loss for words. He just stood there, his brow furrowed, trying to think of something to say. His worries seemed to make her quite upset, and he was unsure of what to do in the face of such sadness from the lady. Impulsively, the man reached out to take her by the elbow once more. He allowed his hand to rest on her forearm for the briefest of seconds, then pulled away just as quickly. She stopped her preparations and peered at him over her shoulder. The lady let lose the shortest of laughs.

"You may stay, if you like, I do not mind. Find whatever pleases you." She said quietly, and her tenderness was not lost on the assassin, who had received so little of it throughout his life.

Entreri was unsure of what to do in the face of such a strange emotion. So bemused was he that he did not notice the re-entrance of Jeaden until the boy came barreling into him. The child nearly knocked him over, and he found himself saved from falling on his face once more by Dusk. The lady needed only give him the slightest nudge and he stood aright again. He wheeled on the boy, perhaps to yell at him, threaten him… the man never needed to find out. The little one looked up at the assassin and then at his aunt, taking in the expression upon each of their faces. The boy set the small bundle he carried onto a nearby counter as quickly as he could.

"Uh oh!" He whispered, giggling, and dove into the nearest cabinet.

The man might have opened the door to scold the elven child, he even began to move to do so… until he heard Dusk's soft laughter. He stopped dead in his tracks and turned to her once more. She had a slight smile on her face, but her eyes still looked very sad, and Entreri wondered why. A moment later, he wondered why he cared, but could not push aside the fact that he did. He came to stand behind the lady, forcing himself to place a hand on her shoulder, and he whispered into her ear.

"I offer my deepest apologies, for although I did not mean to offend you, it seems that I have. You have been… more than kind to me. Forgive me, I…" He shook his head. "I need to go for a walk."

And for the second time in just as many days, he took hold of her hand and gently kissed it. With that, he sighed, and walked out the kitchen door. No sooner did his heel clear the doorjamb and the door swing closed behind him, Jeaden's giggles sounded from within the low cabinet yet again. The boy cracked the door open and peeked around it at his aunt, ducking back inside when she turned to look. He snickered fiercely and poked his face out once again.

"Hey Dusky, can I ask you somethin'?" He asked, grinning widely all the while.

Dusk chuckled at him, shaking her head. "Of course, sweetheart."

The boy went into another fit of giggles before he spoke again.

"Do Enterin's whiskers tickle?" He blurted, then ducked behind the cabinet door and laughed merrily. The lady found herself laughing with him.

"Why would you ask a silly thing like that, child?"

He stepped out of the cabinet then, grinning sheepishly. "Well, daddy doesn't have em, an I've never esactally seen em up close like I did just now. They jus look like they tickle, tha's all."

Dusk fixed the boy with a mock angry glare, putting her hands on her hips. "Why you little rat," She said with a smile. "You were watching all of that?"

Jeaden nodded, smiling widely up at her. The lady lunged for him and caught him around the waist, hoisting him up in the air. He shrieked in helpless glee as she lifted up his shirt and blew raspberries all over his stomach.

* * *

_Plink! _

Artemis Entreri's head snapped up from his dinner plate. Something small and warm had just bounced off of his cheek, and he peered around the table, looking for the unseen missile. Gingerly the man rubbed at his cheek where the thing had struck him. He flexed his jaw about, and although he was fairly certain by then that the tiny missile was not something that would harm him, the movement did give him a good look about the table.

The assassin peered secretly at Dusk, who sat directly to his right. She was engaged in some deep conversation with Leena, but Entreri paid no attention to her words. Rather, he watched carefully the slight smirk that was tugging at her lips. The man reached over and poked her closest knee with his toe. Dusk glanced at him momentarily, then brought one hand up to brush a stray piece of hair from her face… and turned the fingers around, gesturing to Entreri in the silent drow hand code.

_Is something wrong, my friend? _She slowly signed to him, covering up the movements with a scratch of her head.

Entreri glared at her out of the corner of his eye. _Must I endure such childish antics from even you?_

_Plink!_

Entreri snapped his hand up before his face at the last moment, catching a second missile just before it would have hit him squarely in the forehead. Slowly, he opened his hand… a pea. The assassin heard a muffled giggle from the other end of the table. Instantly he turned his glare upon Jeaden and the boy clammed up immediately, purposefully slipping his fork to the floor with a clatter. The little one dove beneath the table after it, his muffled giggles quite obvious to all in attendance.

"Oh, darling, did you drop something?" Dusk called loudly to the boy, trying to direct the attention of Jeaden's mother away from Entreri's awful scowl.

She got a few more muffled giggles in return, and then a halfhearted 'yep' from the boy.

_Are you certain that I cannot bind the little rat to his chair? _Signed Entreri, not bothering to cover up the halting motion of his own fingers.

Jarlaxle caught the assassin's gestures with ease, and he raised one eyebrow high, having only noticed part of their conversation. Either the drow hadn't noticed what Jeaden was up to, or he did, but he hadn't cared to stop the child. Though the latter was more likely, he started to carefully sign something in return.

Dusk coughed. (Well, she pretended to cough… it sounded more like a cleverly covered laugh.) The lady reached across the table to pat Leena's hand, again drawing the elf's attention, now from both Entreri and Jarlaxle. Leena smiled at the gesture, but still peered about suspiciously at the three males, for Jeaden had reappeared with a great smirk upon his childish features.

"Have I missed something?" Asked the maiden, now carefully watching Jarlaxle.

Jeaden snickered once again, and Entreri looked on the verge of speaking.

His mouth was half opened, but suddenly the assassin had nothing to say. He sat up unusually straight and still, the scowl he wore deepening just a bit.

Dusk smiled at her friend. "Not a thing dear. I was just thinking…"

At the same time, her hands were again gesturing to Entreri, tactfully flashing behind the screen of her hair. _Follow my lead if you would please, for you and I have much to discuss this evening._

"…Upon where I shall put you all tonight. I have only three other rooms outside of my own, so one of us will have to double up."

_It is difficult for me to follow much of anything at the moment! _The assassin's sharp features scrunched up ever so slightly, conveying the urgency behind the true intent of the comment.

Though Jarlaxle, who had been keeping careful vigilance over both spoken and signed conversations, could not understand Entreri's meaning, Dusk grasped it easily. She smirked at the man and gently moved her toes from where she had set them against his groin, but to an only slightly less uncomfortable position on the inside of his calf. The assassin relaxed visibly, still keeping a wary eye on his strange host.

Jeaden piped up then, and began tugging at his aunt's dress.

"Dusky, I wanna sleep in your room." The little one's eyes sparkled at his aunt, pleading for a positive answer.

The lady might have given him what he asked for, even though she did need to speak with Entreri. It was extremely difficult for her to turn the child down, but luck seemed to be with her this night.

Leena patted her son upon the head. "Now sweetheart, I'm sure Dusk doesn't want you kicking her out of her own bed for the second night in a row."

"But mommy…"

The elf placed a hand over Jeaden's mouth. "No buts. You can sleep with me tonight."

"But I didn't sleep with Dusky las night, honest! I stayed with mister Jarlaxle almos the whole time… an you talk all funny when you sleep."

The maiden's face turned slightly pink and her eyes widened at that. She turned an odd stare on the drow, who merely shrugged.

"The boy wanted a bedtime story. For some reason, he thought that I should tell it to him. I can't understand it myself." Jarlaxle added with a chuckle, and might have said more had Jeaden not interrupted.

"Yeah, I couldn' sleep a bit, cause I was kinda worried about Dusky, cause she had to fix up Entreri an' all, an' she was soooo tired she felled asleep right on him when she was done…"

Leena's eyes went all the wider at her son's innocent slip. She stared imploringly at Dusk then.

Of course, the lady had no idea why, since Jarlaxle hadn't the time to tell her of the ruse he had accidentally created. He conveyed all of this to her now, relaying his entire conversation with Leena in careful projections of his mind. Dusk nearly spit a mouthful of wine all over the place, trying to cover up her sudden laughter with a cough. She painted upon her face a look of embarrassment for Leena's sake, though in truth, she wanted to bust out in gales of laughter. The elf was now glaring daggers at Entreri, but directed her questioning at Dusk.

"Dear, please tell me that this is not so."

The lady chewed her lip and put her chin in one hand, signing to the confused assassin with the other after giving him a poke to the calf with her toe.

_It seems that we have a slight predicament. You should do your best to look very innocent and just a little bit nervous for the moment. _She chuckled, then answered Leena.

"But it is so, and I believe that the arrangement will do just fine for this night, as well." She paused, glancing at Entreri to catch his answer.

_Why? _He asked simply, trying very hard not to scowl.

_I shall tell you why later… but Leena believes that you have been rather naughty, if you catch my meaning._

It was then Entreri's turn to nearly spit his wine across the room. He understood what the lady was hinting at, but was able to compose himself. He knew not the reason for such thoughts, but did manage to force upon his face the purest look of 'meep' he could muster. Leena still glared at him, and Dusk forced a sigh.

"Sweetheart, don't look at him like that. He hasn't done a thing wrong. I am certain that he will be a perfect gentleman once again tonight." The lady implored of her elven friend, who seemed far more like an angry mother at the time.

_Must I go through with this? _Entreri was nearly pleading, the contortions of his face clearly showing Dusk his discomfort with the entire situation. The lady replied with only a barely discernible nod of her head, and the assassin sighed deeply.

"I don't like it." Leena frowned at her friend, a most palpable disapproval in her tone.

"Milady, I shall happily take my rest under the bed if it will only alleviate your unfounded concerns." Entreri interjected, causing Jarlaxle to peer at him curiously. Leena still scowled a bit at the assassin.

"And you know perfectly well that I'll have no one sleeping on the couch." Added Dusk, breaking into a chuckle. "Don't worry, _mother_, I shall be on my best behavior!"

At that, Leena dropped her scowl. She smiled, shaking her head at her friend.

"I suppose that you should be fine… you are a grown woman, that is simple enough to see." She reached over to take Dusk's hand. "But compared to you, I am indeed old enough to be your grandmother, and sometimes I see more of a daughter in you than a sister."

The lady rose then and kissed the elven maiden on one cheek. Wordlessly she began clearing the table, quietly snickering all the way to the kitchen. Only Jarlaxle's sharp ears were able to pick it up, though, and it was all he could do to keep from laughing at the whole situation himself.

An hour or so later, after it had taken all four adults to get Jeaden into bed, Entreri stepped into the Dusk's bedroom behind her. Without a sound he shut the door, and at a motion of the lady's hand it was latched. At the sound the assassin was instantly on his guard. The idea of being locked in with this strange woman bothered him more than a little, for even though he could pick nearly any lock if necessary, Dusk had undoubtedly sealed the door by magic as well.

He did not move from his position before the wall, but merely stood there locked in a silent combat of eyes with the lady. She stared right back at him, easily holding a gaze that had send so many others scampering for dark holes. After a moment of the contest, the woman chuckled.

"Please, my friend, save your daggers for thy foes. Sit and be at ease, I'll not harm you." She said quietly, gesturing for him to take a seat on the bed.

Without another word she broke from Entreri's cold gaze and turned away. The lady began searching through a drawer of her dresser, seeming not to care that she now had a skillful and deadly assassin at her back. This particular action was not borne of carelessness at all, though. Had she wished, Dusk could still have kept watch over the man while she pawed through her drawer. It was quite apparent that she had purposefully given Entreri an easy target for a dagger throw, and she meant to prove more benevolent intentions than such a wary man could accept by words alone.

The assassin did sit down, finally allowing himself to believe that this peculiar woman would not harm him, at least for the moment. Soon she joined him, holding in her hands something that Entreri did not at first recognize. Far enough away for his comfort, Dusk sat on the bed beside him and folded her legs beneath her. She sighed, placing the object from her drawer between the two of them.

"What, pray tell me, is that?" Asked the man, studying the object in the room's dim candlelight.

Dusk frowned slightly. "It is yours, by demand of tradition."

A raised eyebrow from Entreri was all that she got in reply. Clearly he did not understand, and of course, the lady had not expected him to. She gestured that he pick the thing up. Cautiously, he did so, finally coming to realize what it was.

A length of Dusk's hair, carefully bound at either end, fell across his palm like honey loosed from a jar. Entreri remembered making the cut well enough in his small scrap with the lady on the floor in the next room. She had been quite upset, though he still knew not why, but he knew this to be the very piece he had none too gently hacked off.

But why present it to him now? Or at all? The assassin pondered on the question for a moment or two. Originally, Entreri had thought that vanity on the lady's part had caused her extreme ire. He was left to wonder then if such a conclusion was really so.

"I do not follow your meaning, madam. If you would teach me some lesson, you should enlighten me of its purpose. It would be terribly disappointing were I forced to spend the night with you over an issue of simple vanity." The man stated coolly, hoping for a forthright answer to such an odd puzzle.

At his cheek and sarcasm, Dusk wore a half amused smile. She knew at once that the man would be greatly bothered by what she had to tell him, but at least he would not be disappointed. She looked Entreri in the face and grinned a bit wider.

"That," She began, gesturing to the lock, "is the equivalent to a human's wedding ring."

"What?" The assassin asked, his tone flat and dangerous.

Dusk graciously held a laugh and continued her explanation. She tapped a finger against her chin.

"Let me see, how may I explain this as simply as possible?" She paused, looking up at the ceiling. "Ah, in your terms, when you cut that piece of my hair, you were both asking for and forcing me to accept a marriage proposal. Technically, we are engaged."

The lady chuckled at the last, unable to hold onto any sort of tact at Entreri's expression. If the man's jaw had fallen any lower, she might have had to put it back onto its hinge. A moment's shocked silence and he found his voice at last.

"You are joking." He stated simply, a wicked edge coming into his voice.

"I am not, I assure you." Dusk replied, leaning back against the footboard of the bed.

Entreri let loose a low growl, but he had enough sense not to attack the woman. A frightening light sprang forth in her eyes just then, illuminating the space between them and letting him know his imminent peril if he decided to press any attack. It seemed that Dusk was no happier than he over the engagement that neither had meant to make. The lady made this perfectly clear not a moment later.

"Do not dare to lay your anger on me, Artemis Entreri." She whispered. "Although you knew not what you had done, this certainly wasn't my idea. You may be quite a handsome and able man despite your age, and I might happily bed you if you would only allow it. But I have no intentions whatsoever of holding to a promise that I did not willingly make. Still, though, we have a slight problem before us."

"We are in agreement upon one thing, then. I'll not hold to such a proposal myself." Replied Entreri, trying to ignore Dusk's comment about sleeping with him. "Though I see no problem."

The lady shook her head. Of course Entreri didn't see any problem just yet. She had not told him of Jarlaxle's earlier news, nor the possibility of danger posed to the three of them.

"Well, here it is." She began, calming herself quickly. "My dear friend, Leena thinks that you, my unwilling fiancé, are a suitor to me. She must continue to believe so, or you, Jarlaxle and myself are all in a lot of trouble. If Leena figures out what you two are up to, or who any of us really are, then we may all be doomed."

Entreri blinked at her, wondering what in the nine hells she could be babbling about. He resisted the urge to kill everyone in the house, save maybe Jeaden. That would be quite a bit simpler for him, he thought, but there again was his nagging curiosity. Who, and what, exactly was Dusk? Perhaps he could lead her to explain that during the course of this conversation.

"Jarlaxle, at least, is always up to something. The potential for disaster follows him everywhere, but since I know nothing of his plans of late, how am I in such a predicament? I did not come here by choice, as you should well know."

"I do indeed. I also know that your reputation has preceded your arrival. Though your name is not known here, tales of a dark assassin from far Calimport are quite well heard of. A mere human who could rival the likes of Drizzt Do'Urden is quite a feat to hear of, believe me. Follow that knowledge, and there lies your danger, for would the renown of the drow not be shared…"

"By the one who took down the hated assassin, chief enemy and murderer of the paladin dark elf." Entreri finished for her, a low rumbling growl in each word. "I care nothing for the foolish would-be swordsmen who might seek my head. As you can see by the fact that I am still breathing now, they have never been able to touch me."

Would he never escape the shadow of one foolish drow elf? Drizzt Do'Urden was long dead, as far as the assassin knew, and yet again he was confronted with more tell of his old foe. And just how much did the lady before him know? He was hard pressed to hold his growing anger in check as Dusk leaned in very close.

"They almost had you, don't you know?" She whispered. Entreri's eyebrow arched ever so slightly, and the lady wore a grim smile. "Of course, you were not there to confront the elves who followed you nearly to my home. It was I who spoke with the elf Dareenfeil, and only I who knew his true purpose in ordering his company to tail you yesterday. It was not only Jeaden he hoped to retrieve, but you, as well. For many months now, he has been keeping watch over the town below, waiting for a man dark of hair and eyes, built more like an elf than a man. This man would carry few visible weapons, save perhaps a single, beautiful jeweled dagger. A man who the even the light of day seemed to skirt, who walked ever in shadow even where there seemed to be none, and who exuded an almost palpable air of power and control."

She paused, smirking at the effect the description was putting on the man. Undoubtedly Entreri wondered how this elf, Dareenfeil, could know his stature so very well. The black look in his eyes nearly spoke the question for him, and again the lady did not deprive him of an answer.

"You were described in immense and perfect detail to the elf, though he was never given your name, by none other than Drizzt himself. Your purple-eyed foe came through these mountains some time ago, and in his pass he shared many such tales with those who asked for them. Dareenfeil was one of those few who willingly took the drow and his small company in for a night, and so he was told much. Since he is quite protective of these mountains, or rather, he _was _most protective of me; he did not want such a man as yourself coming anywhere near here. At least, that is what he pretended. If he were to come upon a chance at you, he would have been quite happy for it, for you see, such a renown as he would know would impress any lady, would it not? But, that is quite another story altogether. Let me merely put it to you this way, so that you may understand.

"The appearance of a strange drow elf at your side only days ago was fine coincidence for Dareenfeil, that and the fact that little Jeaden had been 'kidnapped' by this drow two nights ago gave him all the reason he needed to give chase to your party. He ordered his company to take care of Jarlaxle, find the human who traveled with the dark elf and Jeaden, and bring both to him. While Jeaden was sent home to his mother, he would have killed you and thus let it be known who you were, finally getting his long awaited prize.

"Had it not been for myself and Jarlaxle, that very swordsman who has never touched you would have had you then and there and killed you, sick or no, for his own gain. Because of a few careful ruses, you are still alive, and those ruses are the only thing keeping you alive now. If you cannot act out your part of an ordinary suitor, at least in front of Leena, she will know you for who you really are. And then not only Dareenfeil will come for you, but quite a few others as well. You are safe here alone, as long as no one is able to connect the name of Entreri to the man you truly are. It is the same for Jarlaxle and myself, although I am certain that you do not care about that."

Entreri cursed. Indeed he was caught in the role of Dusk's suitor, for the time being, at least. Once again the assassin was reminded of why he hated most of society in the first place. None could bear to simply leave him alone, not in Calimport, not Helioglobas… and certainly not here. He hadn't even bothered to learn the town's name, and already some sought him out. That he could deal with, since Entreri had been turning aside many fools who would have his station all of his life. But now it seemed that his only relative safety was at the side of a very dangerous woman, and only then if he pretended to court her. Certainly such a thing did not please him, and thus the assassin made other plans.

"If I were to leave this very night, could you not remove my very presence from the minds of those who would seek me out?" Asked Entreri.

Dusk was shaking her head before he had even finished the sentence.

"You cannot, or you will not? I have been under the impression that you could do anything." Again the lady was irritating him, but the man knew that great care was necessary. From his earlier conversation with her, this was indeed a touchy subject. "It would be far simpler, for a ploy as elaborate as that you propose will be dangerous. Even the smallest slip may spell disaster."

The lady smiled. "It might be simpler for you, but it would kill me to try. There are too many who know that you are here for me to dare attempt such a thing."

"Oh…"

She chuckled at him, twirling a stray piece of hair around her finger. "Unless you've a better idea, you may be stuck with me for a time. I daresay that I have ways to make it more bearable for you…"

The mischievous smirk returned once more, leaving Entreri with no doubt of what she was thinking. He scowled deeply, unable to take the implications behind the comment seriously. Why did Dusk feel the need to toy with him in such a fashion? Jarlaxle would happily oblige her in what she pretended to want from the man, and the little game angered him.

"You are impossible!" Entreri spat. "If I must be your suitor, then so be it. But along those lines I do indeed have a better idea. Tell your Leena tomorrow morning that I went and had my way with you in a most ungentlemanly manner and then took off into the night without so much as a farewell. Would that tale suit you, _darling_?"

"It might, but she wouldn't believe me…"

"It would be little different, were I actually to lie with you. Never have I claimed to be a gentle man." Interrupted the assassin with a growl.

Though his growl was nothing in comparison to the sound Dusk began to produce. It was not really an angry sound in the least, but Entreri had never heard its like. If a tiger were able to purr, he thought that it might sound similar. The assassin backed away from her anyway, pulling taut the muscles in his legs to spring if she came too close.

But he never got the chance. Though she hadn't seemed to move at all, Entreri found Dusk practically on top of him all the same. The hand instinctively reaching for his dagger was held securely down by one of her knees.

"Don't do that." Came an unexpected whisper in his ear. "I am not going to hurt you."

Though he was far from helpless, Entreri pressed no further attack.

"How did you to that?" He asked. Any movement that somehow escaped his careful notice was of great interest to him, and so he forced himself to calm.

"Perhaps I'll explain it sometime. I only ask that you have patience. Just listen to me for a moment, will you?" The lady implored, peering into his face.

Entreri merely raised an eyebrow, committing to nothing. Dusk had him in an extremely uncomfortable position, with one leg held tightly between her knees and the use of only his left hand, since she still had not freed his right. Not to mention the fact that the lady's dress was now hiked far up on her thighs. Such a thing would have greatly distracted any other man, and perhaps even the assassin as well, had he allowed himself to look. But he had no wish to be distracted, since he was far too wary of the woman still. Entreri's cold gray eyes stared straight into hers, as though he might see right through her.

Dusk pressed her cheek against that of the human, whispering to him once more.

"Now, if I were to tell Leena what you would have me, you might be able to escape this whole mess for a time." She began, taking in the smell of the assassin's skin and purring once more. "Perhaps you might get fairly far. But you see, even if she believed the lie, still you would be in quite a bit of trouble. For some reason, I cannot fathom exactly why, I am extremely well liked by many of the inhabitants in this place. Many would be very angry with you, and quite a few would chase you down wherever you went."

Entreri twitched his free leg away as the lady trailed her fingers up far too high for his comfort, like a pair of running feet. Dusk chuckled slightly, grabbed the hand that brushed hers away and pressed it to her thigh. The man glared at her but did not seek to move again. That hand had been getting pins and needles sitting at such an odd angle beside him, anyway. The lady looked straight into his glare and continued anew.

"Despite all of your formidable skill, despite your brilliant weapons… Eventually, my friend, you would be caught. And then…"

Quicker than the assassin though possible, Dusk's free hand practically flew forward and came to rest upon his groin. He gave a small grunt, for the touch was a little harder than he would have liked. The lady merely sighed.

"…You would be castrated before you were killed."

Entreri sat as still as possible, staring at the lady with one half-cocked eyebrow and the beginnings of a sarcastic grin. For some reason, he found himself a little amused at his current predicament. The lady did, quite literally, have him by the balls, and perhaps this was how she had planned to get him to listen all along. Behind her façade of utter seriousness, those queer green eyes positively twinkled with mirth. At such close proximity the assassin could see this quite clearly. What Dusk might do to him if he still refused to go along with the ruse she had set into motion worried him just a bit. With all of his best arguments defeated by the lady's logic, Entreri found that he had little choice in the matter.

And still, she had not lifted the press of her hand from his most sensitive nether-parts. Perhaps, the assassin thought, he might be able to bear acting as Dusk's suitor for a little while. He sighed, shaking his head.

"As you wish it, lady. I will follow your lead a little longer. I don't like this in the least, but if there is no other way, I suppose I must tolerate it." Said Entreri after a silent moment. "But one thing must be very clear…"

The lady smiled and nodded for him to continue, though she already knew what he would say.

"We are _not _getting married. Not even in name alone for the sake of your clever ruse. You understand me, I hope?" The man's tone showed that he would take no refusal in this matter, at least.

Dusk understood just as well, since she had thought the same. A human companion she could deal with, and perhaps this Artemis Entreri might even do as a lover. But a human husband? Certainly not.

Finally she released the man's crotch. With a kiss to his cheek she swung her legs out behind her and off of the bed. Entreri stood quickly, smarted at the movement and shifted the supple leather of his pants back into place. He noticed the length of Dusk's hair, somehow moved to the bedside table. Eyeballing it curiously, the assassin picked it up and tossed it to the lady. She caught it easily, cocking her head to the side, wondering at his action.

"What of that?" Entreri asked, hoping that it might simply be forgotten.

"Never do you miss a thing." Replied the lady with a chuckle. "I will keep it, but you need worry for it no longer. I only ask that you not forget it entirely and take greater care not to cut another."

The assassin nodded his agreement, breathing a quiet sigh of relief. Again Dusk chuckled. At a motion she had the drawer opened once again, and at another she had the piece floated carefully into it. She came within a few feet of the man, grinning slightly. He regarded her warily, for the grin looked none too trustworthy.

The grin widened, and she laughed at his stiff posture.

"I tell you again, I'll not harm you. But I do bid you goodnight, and ask that you rest in my bed if you wish. I have a far finer one elsewhere." She threw him a wink. "Until the morrow, then, my friend."

With that the lady turned, oddly enough, headed for the balcony doors.

Before she could get too far away, though, Entreri took advantage of her turned back. Fully recovered from his illness and injuries, the assassin was just as quick as ever. With one hand he reached out and grabbed both of Dusk's wrists, pinned them securely behind her back and spun her to face him. He tugged the lady to him and held her there, pressed tightly to his chest. She stood stock still, blinking in surprise.

Entreri chuckled a little, pleased that at last he had found some weakness in the woman's seemingly impenetrable defenses. He momentarily contemplated pulling his dagger, but dismissed the thought. The purpose of his action was not to harm the lady, nor ignite her dangerous anger. He merely wished to let her know that he could turn the tables just as easily as she, if he really cared to do so.

"My beautiful lady…" Whispered the assassin. "Why must you toy with me?"

The look of surprise had left Dusk's face, and now she regarded him with her usual smirk. She shrugged her shoulders as much as was possible in the restraint of Entreri's iron grip.

The man pulled her as close as he might, and with his free hand reached back and dealt a stinging slap on the lady's rump. A little yelp escaped her lips, but otherwise, it did not seem that she minded much. She raised an eyebrow at Entreri.

"That, pretty one, is for my pain. Take care not to touch me as you did, or at all if you can help it, ever again. Unless, of course," He amended, with the best wolfish smile he could produce. "I ask you to do so. Though I hardly think that our time together will be so long as for me to allow it."

Entreri spun her away from him then, and as soon as the lady had regained her fine balance, he dropped into a low bow.

"And now I bid you goodnight as well, wherever you may find your rest."

When he looked back up at Dusk, she was smiling widely, though still regarding him with a curious eye. Without a word she returned the bow. The balcony doors opened at her gesture, and the assassin watched as she stepped up onto the railing. He walked a little closer so that he might see what was happening, and his eyes widened in surprise as the lady simply dove off the thin wooden rail, disappearing from his sight. The assassin shook his head, unable to see where the lady might have landed.

Satisfied that Dusk was gone, Entreri cautiously walked to the bedroom door. He tried it, and found that it opened easily. It seemed that the lady had lifted whatever spell had been on it while he had been preoccupied. The assassin shook his head, relocked the door and set a nearby chair beneath the knob. Oddly enough, the balcony door he left unlatched. Certainly it would be rude to lock a lady out of her own bedroom!

After checking everything in the room for any trap or possible danger to him, he stripped to the waist and did lie down on Dusk's bed… though he still wore all of his weapons. He felt safe enough, but after living so long on the edge of disaster, the man never could be too cautious.

Entreri allowed himself a satisfied grin at the night's events. Though Dusk did have a slight edge over him, he really didn't mind so much any longer. Perhaps he was a little angry with the lady for putting him in such a ridiculous ruse as that of her suitor, but he couldn't blame her. She was doing all that she could to protect herself, and in doing so, she also protected her allies. Oddly enough, Entreri found that he respected the woman for that, at the least. Perhaps he might even like her. But at the time, the man had found what he needed most from the lady Dusk… a weakness.

Though it was naught but a small thing, it might curb the lady from making such cheek with him, at least. If the assassin were able catch her completely off guard he could, if only for a moment, have the lady at his mercy. Though he had no wish or plans to harm a hair on her pretty head, at least he knew that it was possible, if necessary.

With that in mind, and the comfort that Dusk was nowhere near to creep up on him, Entreri dropped off into the half sleep that only an assassin might know. But even though she was not near to him, the man found Dusk in his dreams once again, and normally, he never dreamed. The darkness does bring such strange things.


	5. Mistaken Identities

Chapter 5: Mistaken Identities

A man leapt among the tallest treetops, his dark hair flying out behind him. For long hours now he had run, chased by a band of warriors few knew anything of. They had tailed him for three days now, resting little, running on. On the second day the man had nearly lost them. On the second day of this pursuit, he might have been free, had he only doubled back behind them and tore off into the forest.

But his mission was far too important. The man needed to keep moving, to reach his destination as quickly as possible. His master had bid him take a message to an old friend, a message of extreme importance. The man knew not where he was going, but the direction didn't matter. He allowed the presence of the one he sought to guide him. He needed little else, for he knew the being well. Thought still, he questioned being sent at all. The man was young in comparison to his master, and had not the gifts of the elder. It would have been a much simpler journey if he had.

From the ground he could be seen as little more than a shadow, twas true, and he made not a sound in his passage. But his pursuers had other ways of tracking him. Still he could hear them, trundling along far behind. Such was the reason he still moved on at top speed, for while his hunters needed to rest, he did not. Perhaps he might make some gain on them in the night. In any case, he could not allow himself to be captured. He was getting quite close to the one he sought, though, and that heartened him. Only little closer and his dear friend would be able to snatch him out of any danger.

* * *

Jarlaxle sighed once again, perhaps for the hundredth time during the course of the morning. The drow sat comfortably sprawled across his favorite couch. As usual, he looked completely at ease, and for once, he truly was. Rarely did he ever get to relax in earnest. Here, at the side of one very old friend, he had such a chance.

The lady Dusk sat at his side, finally making repairs to the drow's poor hat. She too was more at ease than she had been, what with Jeaden and his mother gone home three days before. Dusk had to hide nothing from Jarlaxle, for he knew most of what there was to know about her already. And Entreri, the house's only other occupant… he really didn't seem to care. If he didn't need to act like he was trying to court the lady, he was pleased. But the man simply refused to relax.

At the mere thought of him, Jarlaxle sighed yet again. Artemis Entreri was the source of the dark elf's slight annoyance upon this morning. His human companion had been pacing about the place for hours by then. It seemed that Entreri was looking for anything possible to do.

He had tried making himself useful, inquiring of Dusk to see if she might need anything done, and she had turned him down. The assassin had been outside numerous times, toying with Charon's Claw (for the lady had returned his gauntlet to him a few days back) and repeatedly throwing his dagger at a tree designated for that specific purpose. Still, Entreri could find nothing to suitably occupy his time. Indeed, he had just come back into the house, grumbling quietly past the den.

Jarlaxle didn't think he could take the assassin's restlessness any longer. He turned to Dusk, who lifted her face from her work once she realized that he was watching her.

"It seems that our friend will die of boredom sooner than expected. Is there nothing you might give him to do?" The drow asked with a half-cocked grin.

The lady set Jarlaxle's hat carefully at her side and peered at the ceiling, tapping her fingers upon her chin.

"Well," she began, pursing her lips. "There are a few things that he _could _do, but I am fairly certain that he would refuse them." Dusk sighed theatrically in reply.

"Perhaps you should ask these tasks of me. In all honesty, nearly anything would suffice." Came an unexpected response from the den's southern doorway. Entreri himself stood there, his steely gray gaze leveled upon the lady.

Dusk gave no immediate reply, but she did raise a curious eyebrow at the man upon taking in his appearance. Entreri perspired slightly, and looked as though he had been doing so for quite some time. His breathing was different as well, quickened just enough for the lady to take notice. It was enough at least to make the lady wonder at what he had been up to.

Such a curious look was upon the woman's fair face nearly brought a laugh to Entreri's lips, and he knew what it was for. It was quite unusual for the assassin to appear less than perfect and at the moment, he thought he might seem just that. After taking a moment to enjoy the confused and intrigued visage of the lady, he felt inclined to explain.

"I have been climbing, madam." He said and, before Dusk's next question formed, answered that as well. "The house, since the grass offered little challenge to practice upon. Your rooftop seemed fine enough… surely you do not mind?" He finished, clearly intoning that he honestly did not care whether or not the lady minded.

Apparently, she did not. Dusk did little more than chuckle at the man, and took a moment to marvel at his skill. _He climbed the house… with no equipment and not much in the way of handholds. _ She thought, privately wondering if there was more to the man than even she had been able to discern. Jarlaxle had assured her that Entreri was merely human, with but a small enhancement as a result of a battle with a shade. The lady had believed her friend, of course. But in the week or so that the two males had guested with her, she had found the human to be the more surprising of the pair. She knew humans, all too well, but this assassin seemed somehow a cut above the rest.

Removing herself from her moment of amazement, Dusk shrugged her shoulders.

"I will never come to understand the things men do to alleviate their boredom." She answered with a shake of her head and a small grin. She turned to Jarlaxle. "Perhaps he misses my little nephew quite a bit more than he would let on."

The drow snickered at the absurdity of the comment. Entreri merely rolled his eyes, folding his arms across his chest. He had become rather accustomed to the sarcastic little cracks that Dusk directed at him from time to time. This one he did not grace with his usual and equally sarcastic retort, for the lady still had not answered his request.

"My boredom, as you put it, is still not alleviated. You mentioned something that I might do…?"

At that, Jarlaxle shook his head, nearly disgusted with the assassin's inability to simply relax.

"Truly, my friend, I have nothing that you would wish to do." The lady replied quickly, cutting off anything Jarlaxle might have said. At Entreri's frown, she smirked anew. "Come and sit with me, perhaps I can explain why."

Dusk patted the cushion beside her with one hand while the other deposited Jarlaxle's repaired hat onto his head. The drow tugged her closest arm just a bit closer, laying a kiss upon that hand in thanks. The lady smiled to him in return, but did not take her gaze from Entreri. The assassin shrugged, quite used to the pair by then, and resignedly moved to sit beside the lady. He folded his legs beneath him, doing the best he was able to try and relax a bit. Holding the lady's gaze he wondered, as always, just what she wanted of him.

"I am expecting someone this day," Dusk began in her ever-straightforward manner. "And I would like you both close by when he arrives. My visitor will have a message for me that I wish you both to hear. I know that he shall need to rest as soon as it can be afforded. Unfortunately for you, Artemis, this means that you must stay bored for a while longer. This messenger has not the time to spare that it would require for you to be doing much more than you already have."

She paused, and Entreri shot her and incredulous look, unsure of how much he would want to meet this person. But he said nothing, nodding for her to continue on.

"As for myself, I cannot stray too far from the door until the fellow arrives. He cannot let himself in, for he has never been here before. Only may he enter at my invitation, and mine alone… it is troublesome at times, but that is simply his way." The lady gave Entreri an apologetic smile. "Hopefully my friend won't be too much longer. I regret that I have had to keep you here against your wish for so long, and without giving a reason until now. Truly for that you have my apologies."

The assassin was rather taken aback for a time. Normally he never received such apologies, for much of anything. (Unless of course they came from the quivering lips of some fool who did not wish to meet the sharp end of his dagger.) Entreri said nothing still, honestly unsure of what exactly to say, and nodded once more.

* * *

"I tell ye, we lost the little bugger again!" Sighed an exasperated Erik.

"Indeed, and we'd probably have found him by now if you would learn to keep your mouth shut. A half deaf man could hear you coming a mile off." Snapped his partner, Jorrin. "And we haven't _lost _him, we just can't see him anymore. Why do you think the boss gave us these brooches?"

This pair had been walking for days, part of a larger company of twenty-eight others. All were irritable and tired, for their Captain would not allow the company to rest for more than an hour. Even that would be a rarity until they caught up with their prey and brought him down. This should have been easy, their Captain chided them, had they more than dung for brains. He had split them all up into pairs the day before, thinking it would be easier to spot their catch if the eyes were spread further out.

For a time, luck seemed to be with the company. The one they hunted was finally growing weary. He had slowed considerably in his run across the treetops, and thus the company had time to catch up. Those few who had been bestowed the power chanced levitating up to their prey. The unfortunate man tried to bring this person down from the trees so that the rest of the company might have at, but the other knocked him aside, throwing him earthbound once again with seemingly no effort at all. The fellow was not killed when he hit the ground, but he did break a few ribs. None of that mattered, thought, for he came down with his sword bloodied. The warrior scored a few solid hits, and this would slow their quarry down once more.

But there was a problem. Not a quarter mile from where they walked, scouts had reported seeing a house. From a distance they had checked it over. There were people inside, three of them, and if their quarry reached the place before they did…

These people, most likely ordinary tradesmen of a sort, would fall easy pickings to the one they hunted. If he were allowed to feed, if the company could not catch up with him before he reached those people, there would be no stopping him. It would take days to tire him once again, and with that, their boss would not be pleased.

"Pick it up, ladies, and keep it quiet! We're not far now." Shouted their Captain from the center pair in the line.

It seemed as though the company had found their prey's trail once more. Indeed, it made a beeline directly for the house that lie less than a quarter mile away. Had they only known why, had they only known what kind of a fight they were getting themselves into, the company might have turned right back around to face the wrath of the boss instead. But they did not know, and so they were spurred by their Captain's words. On they ran, quicker and quieter than they had in days.

* * *

Dusk picked her head up at a tiny, nearly indiscernible sound. She closed her eyes, listening more intently, sending out her every sense. The sound she did not hear again, but she did find a presence close by. The lady knew the presence quite well… though she had not expected it. Then there came a silent call, sounding weary and weak within her mind. Brow furrowed in confusion, she rose.

Behind her and still seated, Jarlaxle and Entreri watched with interest. Neither knew for sure what was wrong, but both had keenly felt a sudden shift in the lady's mood. Where she had been calm and composed only a moment ago, she was now tense and quite angry.

"What is it?" Whispered the assassin, who began to stand himself.

Jarlaxle put a hand to his arm, shaking his head. Entreri looked at him oddly, and the drow flicked his eyes to Dusk, shaking his head once more. Look at her, he was being told. And so he did, carefully, taking in every detail of her posture. The man sat back down as quietly as possible. Apparently, the lady was quite upset, enough to keep even Jarlaxle away. Her hands were clenched at her sides, and though she hid it well, a tiny lick of flame curled out from the spaces between her fingers. The muscles in her shoulders twitched just a bit, as though she would have liked to hit something… or someone.

The lady stood this way for a moment, addressing her two companions once she trusted herself to speak.

"I told you that I was expecting someone… he has arrived." She paused, breathing deeply. "But something is very wrong… I think I just might have to kill him as soon as I get him in here."

Without another word or any sort of explanation, Dusk moved silently down the hall, leaving the two males to stare at her back in worry.

* * *

A man leaned wearily against the front door of his friend's home. He did not think that he possessed the strength to stand aright again. For days on end he had been running, only to reach his destination with trouble at his heels. The man was able to lift his head just enough to bang it into the door. Deep was his regret that he had brought a small army of Hunters right to his dear friend's doorstep.

His auburn hair had long since fallen loose from its ties, and it now stuck to his face with his sweat. Painstakingly the man sent out a call, and with what little concentration he could muster, he was able to reach his friend. Luckily, she was home, waiting for him.

_Well…_ he thought, _One of my brothers, not I. _

His friend, more like an older sister than anything else, would probably be very angry with him for risking this journey. Though it had not been his idea, and perhaps someone else might have been better suited, he hadn't really minded coming at all. He managed a smile. She would be angry, he knew, but it would be good to see her again.

With a suddenness that surprised even him, the door he leaned on was flung open. Somehow he was able to stand straight again, without the help of the door, and he grinned at the face he met.

"Hello, sister." He greeted with a whisper.

"Anton Serril…" Shouted the lady Dusk, her emerald eyes aflame, and the man merely smiled all the wider. "Get in here." She breathed, clipping off every word with a growl.

"As you wish, my dear." Anton replied.

With that, the last of his strength left him, and he fell forward into the lady's arms.

* * *

_Thud, CRACK!_

Jarlaxle and Artemis Entreri both started at the sound, leaping from their seats, the assassin with Charon's Claw and jeweled dagger at the ready. Carefully, the drow crept toward the source of the noise, peering down the hallway.

Hunched against the wall was Dusk, trying to heft a strange man to his feet. With one arm she held the man to her while rubbing the back of her head with her free hand. Immediately Jarlaxle went to the lady, tentatively reaching under her hair to check for an injury. She swatted him away.

"I am fine, tis naught more than a bump. Help me get him to a chair." She bade her friend.

The drow eyed the man warily, but noting his physical state he did move to help. One of the man's arms was slung over Jarlaxle's shoulder; the other over Dusk's, and the both of them swiftly deposited him into the nearest chair. The lady kneeled down before the man and wrapped him in a tight embrace, shoving her hair aside so that she might cradle his face in her neck. Shouldn't she be worrying about the fellow's obvious wounds first?

Jarlaxle might have asked about it if not for a motion from Entreri. The assassin was peering out a window, listening intently and furtively beckoning the drow to him.

"What is she doing?" Entreri cast a curious eye toward Dusk and the strange man.

"I might have found out if not for your impatience, now what is it?" Asked the mercenary, irritated and wary at the whole situation.

"Listen…" Came the whispered reply.

So Jarlaxle did. All for nothing, he thought, for that was all he heard. Nothing. He furrowed his brow at the assassin, wondering, yet knowing that his long time companion would not fret over nothing.

"Do you hear anything?" Asked Entreri, and Jarlaxle shook his head. "Neither do I, that's the point. Not a moment ago the air was full of birdsong, and now… silence. Something is very wrong, indeed."

The drow wore a half grin at the possibility of some excitement. He turned to alert Dusk, but Entreri beat him to it. The man whirled around, ignoring the newcomer entirely.

"I believe we have a problem-"

The lady turned and cut him off with a wave. "I know." She said with a sigh, and then gestured to the man in the chair. "This is… my brother, Anton. The 'problem' followed him here, and he is sought for even now."

While Jarlaxle had been keeping an eye on the man for quite some time, Entreri had hardly noticed him. (Later on he would wonder how he had missed such a creature from the start.) The front of his shirt was slashed and bloodied, and he looked haggard, indeed. The assassin stood for a moment, looking from Dusk to this man. The resemblance was quite remarkable, though this Anton was slightly darker of hair and (somehow) paler of skin than the lady. Despite the stranger's obvious weariness, his eyes shone sharper than even Dusk's, and they were silver.

Anton's eyes troubled Entreri profoundly, but he could not pinpoint exactly why. Perhaps it was their strangeness, or the fact that they were fixed directly on the assassin. Whatever the reason, he too watched the lady's brother with a wary gaze while Dusk explained what was happening.

"There are thirty men moving right at us. Hunters, we call them, specially equipped to capture and destroy…" She paused, seeming at a lack for words. "…Men such as Anton. They are quite dangerous, but stupid, for the most part. The company of them has just crossed the road, and they shall soon be upon us. I have to stop them."

The lady's face had taken on such a black look that it caused even Entreri to grin. He pitied these Hunters, whoever they were, for it was quite obvious that Dusk had more in mind than merely holding them at bay. Jarlaxle was smiling from ear to ear at the prospect of making a mess.

"Up for a little fun, my sweet?" Asked the drow, spinning a small throwing dagger upon one finger.

Dusk stared at him. After a moment she chuckled. Jarlaxle had encountered far worse than a few Hunters in his lifetime. He would not allow her to leave him behind, even though this was not in any way his fight. The lady smiled at him, happy for a companion such as Jarlaxle.

"Wait outside for me." She replied, and the drow did so with a bow and a tip of his hat.

Entreri stood staring after the mercenary, unsure of his own place here. He knew little of what transpired now, of that much he was certain. Was he expected to follow Jarlaxle? Did he wish to do so? _And why does a company of thirty trained trackers pursue a single man? _He wondered.

Obviously this fellow was hurt, but seemed to need no tending. All Dusk had done for him was sit him down, and though he looked a mess, he was fine. She disappeared into the next room right after Jarlaxle had gone, leaving Anton in his chair. The assassin thought he had seen her merely holding her brother from the corner of his careful eye. Was that all the man had needed? Apparently the resemblance between brother and sister went deeper than looks, for Anton, like Dusk, was more than he seemed.

"Forgive me…" Called a soft male voice that seemed to pierce the very core of the assassin's being.

Entreri snapped his head up to meet the gaze of the only possible source of the voice. Anton was, as before, staring directly at him. He stared back, wondering if the comment was even meant for him. Raising an eyebrow in question, he continued to watch the man.

Anton laughed quietly. "I have caused you so much strife, and I know not even your name."

The cautious assassin gave no name. "What is so special about you that thirty would be sent for you alone?"

A thin auburn brow rose. "They fear me, I suppose. Many do. I cannot blame them."

"Your sister has not been bothered." Entreri retorted matter of factly, for Dusk had told him as much.

"My sister," Another laugh and a closed smile. "Is quite adept at keeping herself hidden."

_And what is it that you hide? _Something about this man definitely did not sit right with Entreri. Dusk's brother was keeping a great secret but then again, so was the lady. Anton, however calm and benign he might seem, put the assassin more on his guard than Dusk ever had. For once, he actually wished that the strange woman would return. At least that might take the newcomer's silver gaze from him!

Perhaps she had been listening, Entreri never bothered to ask, but the lady chose that moment to reenter from the den hall. In her arms she cradled a large leather-bound tome. Anton tried to rise, but the lady went straight to him. She said not a word but shoved him back into his chair and held her hand to his chest, whispering while keeping her eyes on the huge tome. Her brother watched in bewilderment, the assassin in mild curiosity.

"What-" Anton began.

"Apparently they were tracking you by magic." Dusk interjected, setting the tome down and pulling the man to a tedious standing position before throwing one arm over her shoulder. "Now they cannot do so." She explained quickly.

Without a moment's hesitation, she made for the stair. This might have been fine, had Anton's legs been able to support his weight. He stumbled, apparently still too weak to go very far on his own. Dusk cursed, looking quite worried, but she had a solution for this as well. She shifted an arm behind her brother's knees, scooping the man up as though his weight were nothing.

Entreri gawked, for Anton was not a small man, and he had doubted that the lady possessed the strength to lift his own smaller frame.

"What, Artemis?" Asked the lady, urgent tones now clear in her voice. "Do you want to carry him?"

The assassin gave her a look that, with not a hint of uncertainty, told her that he refused to come anywhere near Anton. (Who began grumbling his disdain for being carried like a child.)

"Then follow me." At that, Dusk turned on her heel and started up the stairs.

Entreri watched after her for only a moment, then followed, intrigue joining his wariness.

The door to Dusk's room flew open before the three ever reached it, and it closed just as quickly behind them. The lady set her brother down in the room's single chair. She closed her eyes, one hand drumming upon her chest for a mere second.

"They have seen you, obviously." She said, addressing Anton.

He nodded, looking suddenly mournful. "I am terribly sorry." He covered his face with one hand. "Father thought I might be strong enough to lose them in the forests, but of course, I failed him. Because of my weakness, the Hunters may find you, too."

"That will do, Little Brother." Gently spoke the lady. Anton might have said more, but he looked close to tears by that time. Dusk apparently wanted him to keep quiet.

"Now," She pressed. "Would any of the Hunters recognize you, were they to glimpse you again?"

"Of course." Replied the man, his eyes alight. Finally he stood steadily, drawing himself to his full height. "I shall draw them all to me."

The lady smiled, shaking her head. "I have a better idea. Take off your clothes, sweetheart."

At that quip, the silent Entreri thought it prudent inspect the view from Dusk's balcony. Of course he wondered just what the woman could be thinking. He would simply ask- as long as her brother remained at least mostly dressed. The glass doors he shut behind him, and so he could not hear all of what was going on inside. A few snatches and little more.

Anton had apparently lifted his voice beyond that maddeningly mellow whisper. _"I cannot allow it!" _The man might have been shouting, so clearly did Entreri hear that phrase. Things grew quieter after that small outburst. The assassin allowed himself a moment's introspection during the relative peace. What was he to do? Dusk, he knew, was going out to meet these Hunters. She apparently refused to let Anton follow, from what Entreri had caught. Certainly he did not wish to stay here with the strange man. He sighed, his decision made, bringing himself back to the moment.

Dusk was giggling, but then all was quiet. Entreri listened… nothing from inside. _Why do I dislike this silence?_ Cautiously he backed toward the doors, reaching to open one of them. Someone on the other side got to it before he did. He felt rather than heard the door, no more than a small exchange of air against his fingertips.

"Come quickly," He heard Dusk call. "I need your opinion."

And so Entreri turned to ask just what she needed an opinion for, when he received quite a shock. He didn't see Dusk anywhere in the room, though he had just heard her voice directly behind him. When he looked, there was only Anton.

Or, at least the assassin had first thought. He found that some things were quite… different... about Dusk's brother. Anton had looked far taller not a moment ago, for one. And the eyes, those sharp silver eyes of his were…

Entreri very nearly laughed aloud. The eyes, now twinkling with both anger and amusement, were not silver at all. They were green, startlingly and impossibly green. The assassin relaxed slightly, for it was Dusk, and not her brother, who stood grinning at him.

"You cannot be serious." He said, shaking his head. The lady only grinned. "I suppose you plan to draw these Hunters away like this?"

"Indeed. The likeness does not need to be exact for, by the time they realize their error they will be dead." No trace of amusement strayed upon Dusk's face for very long. Her tone had gone cold and quiet, her eyes twinkling naught but the promise of death. "And thus, the reason that I need your opinion. Will the guise be good enough to mistake from afar?"

Entreri raised an eyebrow. He had thought such to be obvious.

"You had me fooled for a moment, and I stand no more than a yard away."

The lady's vicious smile returned. "Many thanks." She whispered.

Then she disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a whiff of smoke… and, of course, a startled assassin.

The disappearing act was nothing new to the man. Many wizards, and a skilled cleric on occasion could pull it off with ease. What bothered Entreri was the fact that the lady had left without him. Dusk wanted him to stay put, apparently. He might not have cared, save for one thing… he had no idea where Anton might be. The assassin instinctively knew that he was not alone in the room; of that much he was certain. But where was the strange fellow? Entreri thought he would rather not be the one to find him unexpectedly.

So he followed after Dusk via the bedroom window, knowing that the lady went to meet Jarlaxle. After all, he had so terribly wanted something to do…

These "Hunters", whoever they were, would stand no chance.

"Our guests are close..." Jarlaxle whispered, and his voice was the first Dusk heard upon reaching the other end of her teleport.

The drow couldn't help but grin as she stood at his side.

"It might be worth the show to have a little surprise to greet them." He whispered in turning to face his friend, twirling the feather from his hat between his slender fingers, and then stopping suddenly. The grin grew wider, and he put the feather away. "But I believe your surprise shall be far more amusing."

Dusk could just barely bring herself to smile. The Hunters she had met before-she had never been fond of what they did. _Flocking to the whim of their would-be "god", their tyrannical leader... _She mused angrily, and not for the first time. _Should this fiend of a man have his way, no race inhuman would ever roam Torril in relative safety._ The lady shook her head, realizing that Jarlaxle was awaiting her word.

She sighed. _I must save the anguished musing for later. Anton would be pleased to join me in it, if I still know my..._

"Assassin, is there a problem?" The lady had felt rather than heard Entreri's approach.

Her thoughts were left to trail, as she had certainly not expected the man and had rather hoped that he might stay out of sight. _What with how pale his skin and sharp his features, he could be mistaken for one of Anton's weal at a glance. His fate, were he captured, would be far worse than death. _She turned about, for Entreri had not answered her.

The man smiled darkly. "Apparently so. Apparently there are men whom you would like killed, and so as per my bestowed title, I offer my services." His services and a theatrical, sarcastic bow.

Now Dusk really truly had a dilemma. Should she turn Entreri away in fear for his safety, he might be lost to her ever afterward. She needed him. In time if not for the particular moment, she knew that the skilled arm of Artemis Entreri at her side was not something she could afford to lose.

"You have my gratitude, for this is certainly not your fight." Dusk sighed. "If you would help me, then I bid you stay with Jarlaxle, and as far away from me as possible."

"A pity for us, then. I do so enjoy watching you fight." Quipped the drow with a smile.

Dusk only returned her own grim smile -a mere turning of the lips that extended nowhere near her eyes- and off into the trees she disappeared with a bound.

As they were bid, Jarlaxle and Entreri gave the lady a bit of time to move far ahead of them. Entreri started out then, his footfalls as silent as those of the drow beside him.

* * *

"Oye, Jorrin..." Spoke Erik suddenly, receiving a slap on the back of his head in return.

Jorrin glared at his partner. "Keep it quiet if you insist on speaking! Now what is it?"

Erik rubbed his head reproachfully, then put a hand to the brooch on his chest and frowned. "Is it supposed to be doin' that, do you think?"

"Doing what? Don't tell me you broke the bloody thing." Sighed the man in exasperation.

Erik's frown deepened. "Look, it was hot a minute ago, like we was close. It's stone cold now, that's all."

Jorrin rolled his eyes. _The fool did break it... well, it's his hide, not mine. _He thought, and touched his own brooch to check their bearing. It would be burning by then, they should be so close to their prey...

But Jorrin stopped suddenly, a fearful look in his eye. The magical brooch upon his own chest was suddenly cold. Unnaturally cold... colder than it had been when each of the company had been given the things. What could that mean? He reached out and touched Erik's brooch as well, finding it just as frigid.

He gestured to his partner to keep quiet and still. For once, Erik listened.

From his pocket Jorrin pulled a small yellow stone. Each of his company held one identical to it, and they were not just for show. The stones were magicked to pulsate when another was near, thrumming quicker and slower in relation to proximity of one another. Slowly Jorrin revolved in a circle, holding out the stone in his palm, trying to locate the other pairs of the company.

Finally he felt a slight response from the stone, pointed back the way that he and his partner had come. Apparently they had gotten a bit ahead of the rest of the company. Again he reached for his brooch, cursing at still finding it so oddly cold.

"I can't understand this." He whispered to Erik. "The one we're after is hardly more than a child, he wouldn't be able to escape so fast that he'd fool the brooches. And none of them have the magic to disguise the nature of their own blood, so how's this happening? I mean the bloody thing's as cold as..."

"As ice, perhaps?"

Jorrin nearly jumped out of his skin and Erik let out a surprised yelp. Trying to recover and compose himself, the former sneered triumphantly. Or, he hoped that it looked so. Now that the moment, the very reason for this journey, was upon them, he felt like a blundering child. He quickly drew his sword, motioning for his partner to do the same.

"So, friend, you managed to throw us for a loop. How clever of you." Jorrin dared to speak in his most threatening tones. "Tragic we've got to kill you."

A rustle of leaves responded, and then; "Is it cold as the foulest winter winds, mayhap?"

"Quit fooling around and show yourself, unless yer a coward!" Bellowed Erik, who swallowed fearfully afterward. Something just wasn't right...

A mirthless, sinister sounding chuckle came from behind the two.

"No, no ice or winter winds shall do. Perhaps the only word cold enough for you..."

Jorrin and Erik spun, both well-aimed attacks hitting a target that simply was not there.

"Is death." Came again the voice of their illusive prey.

Perhaps one of the two made contact with their next attacks, perhaps not. They did not live long enough to find out. Jorrin, and then Erik, felt a cold sting across his throat. The last of what their senses received would haunt them for what seemed an eternity, before death did take them into its cold embrace.

They saw the face of a woman, beautiful and terrifying all at once, her lips twisted in what might have been a grin. Her laugh that held no mirth whatsoever resounded in their ears until they could hear no more.

* * *

The red stitched gauntlet on Entreri's hand hummed ever so slightly. The assassin grinned- the Hunters were now the hunted, and they were close to being found. He and Jarlaxle had come upon a small clearing, indeed a perfect place for their "friends" to spring an ambush.

Entreri, ever the pragmatist, stayed silent and watchful. He allowed his keen ears to guide his catlike step, every now and again calling on his gauntlet to be sure of his bearing. Apparently these Hunters were riddled with magical devices, for the gauntlet had no trouble at all in tracking each one within a hundred paces. There were three, and it would pose no problem for the two to find them.

Though with Jarlaxle shadowing closely to his right, Entreri thought that the Hunters might find them first. The drow was chattering steadily, as he had been for quite some time. He quieted only for a moment, standing in the middle of the clearing while tapping one slender ebon finger against his chin.

"Where are they, I wonder?" Asked the drow of no one in particular. "I hear them tiptoeing about through these very trees even now, but they haven't attacked us."

Entreri snorted. "They aren't looking for us, as we are not whatever it may be that Anton and Dusk are. I suppose we do not make their cut."

"Artemis Entreri and Jarlaxle aren't even good enough to dirty their blades over? Preposterous." Indignantly quipped the drow, who had begun to pick at his fingernails with a small dagger. (One that Entreri knew could be elongated into a slender rapier.)

The assassin gave no reply, listening intently. A tiny, quick _thwunk_ had caught his attention. Suddenly in a blur of motion, he twisted his body to one side, making a catching motion close to where his chest would have been. On the tail of the same movement he drew his dagger and threw it hard into the branches of a tree. Mere yards in front of him fell a man, one dressed in very unfamiliar armor. (And a very dead man at that, what with the jeweled hilt of Entreri's dagger still quivering in this throat.) Entreri retrieved his weapon, wiped the blood from it, and inspected what he had caught.

Between the assassin's fingers was a tiny feather-ended dart. Some pale powder, most likely a kind of poison, covered it's razor sharp tip.

"What is it?" Asked Jarlaxle, who strode calmly closer to join Entreri's inspection of the dart.

"I'm not sure. But it is curious... most powder based poison isn't very effective until mixed with a liquid." Mused Entreri. He sniffed at the substance, wrinkled his nose in mixed disgust and recognition.

"It does sting a bit, although that may just be the dart itself." The drow replied, plucking a similar dart from his bicep without so much as a flinch. He regarded the dart, not recognizing the powder himself. Gently he twitched the muscles in his arm. "No, I do believe that it is the powder that stings. So, you obviously know what it is... will it kill me?"

Entreri chuckled, wondering if any poison really could claim Jarlaxle.

"Doubtful." He replied. He wiped a bit of the powder from the first dart with a fingernail and touched it to his tongue. A puzzled look crossed his face. "It's just powdered garlic, nothing more."

"Garlic? The foul smelling cooking spice?" Jarlaxle asked, a hunch solidifying in his mind. Entreri nodded. "Well, that certainly explains a few things."

The assassin narrowed his eyes, indicating that Jarlaxle should tell him what exactly could be gleaned from such a discovery. Chuckling, the drow thought it best to change the subject. They did have other matters to attend to, after all, and those matters were now creeping quietly toward them.

"So, how shall we draw out this one's two companions?" He asked, indicating the dead man in the grass.

Entreri glared at him. "Perhaps you should perform another striptease, as you did when we were hunting the Rellian priestess a few months back." His brow twitched at the memory. "That may make the other two wish to kill you. Of course, you would have to wait for me to make myself absent. I'll not be present for such a spectacle a second time."

Jarlaxle laughed loud and hard at that. "Now _that_ was an interesting hunt, and a fine tactic on my part, if I do say so myself."

"Oh, interesting indeed. Amazing, even, in that I managed to hold onto my weapons, seeing as I nearly lost my supper."

"Come now, I thought I did rather well..." The drow replied, sounding wounded indeed.

As the two threw back and forth their banter, the two they were seeking, the Hunters, stood agape. Just at the edge of the clearing they watched Entreri and Jarlaxle, who seemed so distracted and ill prepared. The Hunters wondered how the pair had so easily taken down one of their company. In such, they allowed themselves to become as distracted as those they watched seemed.

Just as Jarlaxle turned indignantly from Entreri, he looked squarely at the two Hunters.

"Well hello!" Cried the drow in a manner that he might greet an old friend.

The warriors stiffened, cautiously drawing various and fine looking weapons. They did not move to attack. Standing at the ready, the two of them were quick to realize that something was terribly out of place.

Entreri sighed, leveling his deadly glare at the men.

"If you are able to use those," He said, indicating their weapons, a sword and an axe, respectively. "Then it would be wise to do so, and quickly."

The two merely stared at him, as if they were trying to figure something about the assassin out.

Jarlaxle clicked his tongue. "Honestly, we haven't an entire day to waste." He paused momentarily, tapping his foot on the ground. He rolled his eyes. "Fine! Have it your way. Just never let it be told that we didn't at least give you a chance at a fair fight."

The Hunters bristled, knowing that they were being set up, but unable to back down from such insult.

"We do have to speak to a lady of this battle once your bodies lie cooling. At least _try_ to make this difficult for us, would you? Pigs to a slaughter truly does not sound very impressive."

Entreri's addition of insult to injury finally tipped the scale of pride and prudence, as he knew it would. He grinned.

In came the larger axe wielding Hunter, slashing at Entreri's neck with surprising skill. Entreri merely rolled his eyes. Ducking behind and beneath the move, the assassin brought himself nose to nose with his own would-be assassin. He thwacked the man hard across the knuckles before the follow-through was even completed. Though he was hardly cut, the hunter shrieked in pain and fell back behind his partner. The wicked beauty that was Entreri's dagger needed only a nick to elicit such a response, after all.

The second Hunter looked from Jarlaxle (who was leaning against a tree, laughing) to Entreri. The drow, though he was likely just as dangerous, was not his problem. Let the others deal with him after they had caught the redheaded one they'd chased for the past few days. This pale grayish skinned one, however… he regarded the soldier with an expression of boredom, now… his capture would bring far better reward. This one was perhaps even more powerful than their original quarry.

The sword wielding Hunter tapped the small yellow stone tucked behind his belt. To take down this new quarry, he might need one of their wizards.

Entreri had time to clean his nails before the Hunters attacked again. Which was fine enough for him, since he heard new movement in the trees at his back… where Jarlaxle leaned against a thick bough.

Up came Charon's Claw in an instant, neatly blocking the axe slash aimed at his left arm. He had to work a little quicker to catch the sword at his right. The Hunters were trying to herd him backward, against the bigger trees.

_Either these fools expect me to run, or I have missed something of importance. _Entreri mused with a grin while he threw the next axe slice and sword thrust wide. Perhaps he would do some of the Hunter's work for them.

Axe and sword both swung in again at the assassin's head and legs. The assassin, quite simply, was no longer there. He turned a half circle and did exactly what his opponents expected him. Entreri ran… straight at thick tree, ten paces or so to his back. Nor did he bother to stop. Instead the man ran right up the tree, pulled a back flip that would have done any acrobat proud and landed behind the Hunters. The axe wielder received the end of his landing, which is to say that Entreri cut out the backs of the unfortunate man's knees.

Since it was Charon's Claw that did the cutting, this Hunter's legs melted spectacularly just in time for his astonished partner to bear witness.

Oddly enough, the remaining Hunter didn't look as astonished as he should have. This was very strange in Entreri's opinion. The work of Charon's Claw usually disturbed people quite a bit… but though this fellow looked a little green in the face, he wore a smile that seemed triumphant to the assassin.

Entreri tried to look worried. He really, honestly tried. But in truth, he had heard the third Hunter coming ever so slowly into the fray some minutes ago. Now this third was tiptoeing up behind him. He heard no clink of armor, but rather the swish of robes. The assassin chuckled. So one of these fools had called a wizard, and the sword wielding Hunter thought himself extremely clever.

An explosive flurry of sword and dagger set the soldier back on his heels in retreat. This gave Entreri plenty of room to take care of the wizard, and hopefully without leaving himself open to any spell his gauntlet couldn't catch. He leaned back and spun full circle.

Charon's Claw tore away a piece of robe before the assassin even stood straight. His jeweled dagger shied off of the wizard's chest. Obviously, this wizard had come with some manner of caution, for it seemed that he had shielded his more vital body parts. Entreri came out of his wild looking spin and faced the wizard, who was about to blow a handful of arcane something at the man. Up and out he held his gloved hand, just in time to catch the wizard's first spell (and only spell, if Entreri had things his way).

But the assassin also caught a faceful of yet another powder. Although whatever magic was supposed to hit him had been averted, this powder did certainly sting the eyes. Entreri thrust his dagger forward and down. Apparently the wizard hadn't thought to shield his lower extremities. Although he couldn't see it, the man knew that his dagger had connected nicely with the wizard's toes. A pained shriek rang out long and loud, telling Entreri all he needed to know. He thrust his open and gauntlet clad hand forward. It hit the wizard solidly in the chest, and with that, the assassin commanded the gauntlet to throw back the spell it had caught.

By then Entreri's eyes were burning quite painfully, and so he didn't stick around to discern exactly what had happened to the wizard.

Fighting blind was no problem whatsoever. But whatever the man had in his eyes could potentially blind him permanently. That, he knew, could very easily become a problem. Since he had no idea what this powder could be, Entreri thought it best to get it out… immediately. He ducked and rolled behind the nearest tree.

"You know," Jarlaxle's voice floated down from over Entreri's head. "The last of our foolish friends has decided to follow you. I don't think he has seen you yet, but he is pointed in our direction."

Entreri answered by using his dagger hilt in a club-like manner. He swiped it in the general direction of his drow companion's voice.

"Now that was rude!" Came the half amused reply to his attack. "I was only trying to help."

The assassin merely ignored him. Had he decided to play into Jarlaxle's banter, he might have had quite a few things to say to the drow. But his eyes needed to be taken care of first. Closing them only made the pain worse, but he gritted his teeth and bore it without a sound. He leaned against the tree behind him, trying to relax and force his eyes to flush the powder out themselves.

Jarlaxle was gone, which was good, since that left Entreri without the distraction of the drow hanging over his head. He had no idea where his strange companion had gone. Though at the time, he truly didn't care… anywhere _away _was fine enough. But he did hear footsteps, and not the overly noisy clack of heeled boots, either.

The remaining Hunter was quite near, Entreri knew, and pretending that he hadn't yet noticed the assassin. Heavens, when Dusk had mentioned that these people were stupid she really hadn't been joking! This man was looking fixedly where his powerful foe was not. It seemed as though he were trying to get a good appraisal of Entreri without alerting him… as though he were trying to figure something out about him. What that might be, the assassin knew not, but he made a note to ask before killing the fool.

Entreri heard the Hunter painstakingly trying to be quiet. He heard a slight creak of leather, a small snap and a rustle of leaves. A clasp being undone, perhaps, to release something from leather strapping? Indeed, the keen ears of the assassin told him what his eyes could not. Attempts to very quietly take in several deep breaths reached his ears next.

An image flashed passed Entreri's considerable memory… the dart in Jarlaxle's arm, and the quiet _thwunk_ just beforehand. The Hunter, he deduced, was leveling a blowgun at him. The soldier was many yards away, and his quick, deep breaths were his preparing to make his shot (for he might only get one) count as much as possible.

The assassin waited.

* * *

Falin was in a great deal of trouble. That he understood easily, since not a single muscle on his body would answer to the commands of his brain. What he didn't understand was… why? He was first wizard of the second hunting troupe, behind only one man in arcane skill! That _fiend_, as he thought of that dark haired and gray-toned skinned creature… why hadn't his spell worked on that one? The powder _did_ touch his skin, Falin had seen it himself. Why was he frozen still, then, instead of the fiendish one?

The wizard sighed, which was difficult, since he could just barely breathe anyhow. He would simply have to wait until the spell wore off.

Not a moment later did Falin revise his decision. He had heard some… disconcerting sounds coming toward him. Likely his mind was fooling with him, but at the time he knew without a doubt that someone's boots were clicking in his direction. Clicking quite noisily… on the grass.

He heard a light chuckle and tried vainly to turn his head toward the sound.

"I believe that, in your situation," Whispered a voice by his ear. "The only fitting thing to say would be 'Oops'." The owner of the voice chuckled as Falin vainly tried to shy away. The being continued. "If you could say anything at all, of course.

"He isn't what you thought. But you know that now, don't you?"

Falin managed to incline his head ever so slightly, as close to a nod as he could get. Though he did not recognize the speaker he knew exactly whom the man (for the voice certainly belonged to a male) spoke of.

"A pity…" Said the person, now crouching just on the edge of Falin's vision. "For you, I must clarify. You understand that I cannot allow you to live, don't you?"

Falin tried to cry out, he tried with all his physical and magical might to get away. He managed a rather stiff fall on his frozen face and an agonized whimper before Jarlaxle put a dagger between his ribs.

* * *

The Hunter smiled. His powerful-so very powerful!-opponent was prone and unmoving… and right in his line of fire. He took a deep breath, prepared to fire…

And stopped. _What if…_ he wondered. _What if it really _isn't_ hurt? _But that was a silly thought. His wizard companion hit the dark haired creature disguised as a man _right in the face_ with blessed ash, and while that might not stop some as powerful of this one, it would certainly be incapacitated for some time. The dart loaded into his blowgun now would most definitely send the creature into a state of torpor. The Hunter could then bring it back to his master, and thus reap great reward.

He grinned at the thought. The hunter breathed slowly, carefully. He took aim, set his elbow against his knee, breathed, set his lips to the blowgun… and finally, he fired.

Echoing doubts resounded… _Yeah, but what if?_ The Hunter watched the seconds it would take for the dart to reach his target. It seemed time had decided to slow down, if just to be cruel to the poor man and give his doubtful hindbrain more time to catch up.

* * *

His hindbrain was right.

Pained eyes or not, Entreri had been expecting the low _fwunk _sound of the blowgun for some time by then, and he could indeed see a little bit. He relaxed every muscle. Every tendon in his body he allowed to go slack so that he might, quite effectively, feign being hit by the dart. Entreri leaned as hard against the tree as possible so that he would get as much _crumple _out of his controlled fall as possible.

He heard the Hunter let fly the dart. The assassin counted one heartbeat and a half, and then…

And then something… odd… happened. Instead of falling to his side, Entreri shivered uncontrollably and then simply… faded. He was still _there_, essentially of course. But the really strange thing he noticed while in mid-fall was this; he could see straight through his fingers… and his arm, and his torso and legs below. (Quite a disturbing image, for one not prepared to see it.) It was as though his body had been formed in shadow instead of flesh and bone. Even the Hunter seemed to have lost tract of the man, since he had started whirling about, frantically seeking his opponent. Entreri shook his head and peered to his side.

Where he saw the tiny, feather-ended dart sticking into the bark of the tree… where his now insubstantial shoulder still rested.

Entreri blinked, coming back to himself. There would be time aplenty later on to figure this out. He slithered through the grass toward the unsuspecting (and by then very, very frightened) Hunter.

Prodding the grass with his slender sword (but in all the wrong places), the Hunter didn't even notice when Entreri rose up to stand behind him, silent and very nearly invisible.

The Hunter was dead before the blood from his slit throat ever hit the ground.

* * *

Rayleth dropped the squirming Marcus to his feet. The latter brushed himself off indignantly—he did not enjoy being carried by his wizard companion, and he wondered why he had not been given the gift of levitation himself. But the boss did favor his wizards, and Rayleth was undoubtedly one of the best. Marcus shook his head. Perhaps here he could prove himself worthy in the boss's eyes here, as it was his idea to try and beat their quarry to this tradesman's house.

But, Marcus wondered as he looked around the empty bedroom, where were the tradesmen? Each of the three wizards in their company had checked the place over (and hoped to find the other's count faulted), and by use of different scrying spells had found the place inhabited. There should be three men in the building, beside themselves, that was. As both Hunters surveyed the room beyond the window they had come in, they started to notice other things wrong with the picture... beside the place being entirely deserted.

This bedroom, for one, obviously didn't belong to a man at all. The drapes were velvet (and purple… no color for a decent man to have in his bedroom) and the bed sheets satin. And Rayleth, with his magically heightened senses could indeed smell a slight hint of male, found himself verily assaulted by the smell of a female. That nearly distracted him entirely from what his other magical senses were telling him. Within this room were immense traces of expended arcane energy… not only that, but the pull of the same sense came to him even stronger in the next room.

While he headed for the bedroom door, wondering whether or not ordinary tradesmen usually banded with a wizard so powerful, that distracting female smell hit him in the face like a brick. Rayleth shook his head hard, his fingers hovering over the doorknob. He stared at his hand for a moment… why had he wanted to leave again?

_The tradesmen, yes…_ His strangely foggy mind reminded him. _And I was going to scout the next room… but why?_ He didn't exactly remember why, but he knew that before he did anything else, he had to get Marcus and himself _out_ of this room. Something was wrong in this room, very wrong, something Rayleth's magic had failed to see.

_But it is __**nice**__ in here… _Whispered his mutinous mind. _Why should we not stay?_

"Marcus?" Mumbled Rayleth weakly, for it seemed that his body had become as mutinous as his mind.

"Ray, c'mere! I found… some stuff. S'womans' stuff, but it smells neat!"

And Marcus turned from where he had been rummaging in a chest of drawers to face his companion. He presented Rayleth with a handful of undergarments and a rogue stocking. The wizard smacked his hand repeatedly into his forehead. He felt drunk, and Marcus looked just as inebriated. He thought that it might help if he were to release the spell heightening his senses… that smell, that wonderful smell invading upon his nostrils… that smell was the key to this drunken feeling, he was sure of it!

But Rayleth could hardly speak. He dropped heavily to his knees, and knew that releasing or performing any spell at all would be impossible.

"Marcus!" He managed to cry out. "Marcus help me up… need to leave…"

His companion stared blankly at him for a moment.

"But… we can't." Marcus began. "She said to wait, didn' you hear? She'll be home soon, she said. So I'm going to wait righ' here, I am, and you're a dolt if you don't do the same!"

For a moment Rayleth struggled toward the door, and with the certainty that his companion was absolutely mad. He knew that if he didn't get out of that room, he would be just as insane.

But then the last of his magical shields fell. Rayleth was an intelligent man, and never went on a hunt without many in place… but in comparison to this last, all of the other protections he could come up with meant nothing. This last was a shield against intrusion upon his mind. At last he heard the whisper. And for him, the whisper changed.

The small, seductive whisper in his head told him not that 'she' was on her way home, but that 'she' was already here. She was hiding here, in this room… waiting… but not for Marcus. It was Marcus she hid from, so the whisper told him, for she wanted to be found only by Rayleth.

The wizard's battered mind was tugged with his gaze toward the large wardrobe sitting against one wall.

_There, yes! _Cried his mind, for indeed, that was the spot the whisper told him 'she' could be found. The wizard grinned all too happily, and then his face quite literally fell. Marcus was too close to the wardrobe… she didn't want to be seen by Marcus.

_Knock him out… _thought the Hunter giddily. _But don't kill him. She said that to make such a waste would be a crime, indeed._

Slowly and carefully, Rayleth picked up his staff. He took aim and hurled it at his companion's downward bent head. Marcus went down in a heap, but he started to snore not a moment later. The whisper thanked him and told him that he was a good boy. The Hunter's best wizard giggled, wild and gleeful before striding with purpose toward the wardrobe.

_Oh yes… _he thought, just before he opened the wardrobe doors. _Yes, we are a good boy, aren't we?_

Half buried under a pile of his sister's clothes, Anton Serril laughed quietly.

* * *

Twenty-two Hunters converged at the crest of a hill, far above the place where Artemis Entreri and Jarlaxle had dispatched four other of their company. The remaining troupe had no way of knowing that they were now the whole group… so of course, they thought themselves very clever indeed for finding their quarry with only one wizard. (And he who was placed last amongst the three who had gone on this hunt.)

The man they had searched for three days running was in their grasp at last. Even though all of the company's magical brooches had inexplicably stopped working, even though their wizard's detection spell produced sketchy results, they had found him. But he was just… standing there... and singing, in a rather off sounding tenor. Surely there had to be something wrong with that!

All of the company knew, though, that they would get no better opportunity to capture their quarry without destroying him. The captain waved forward the wizard and a man with a blowgun. The others he motioned to surround the creature in a horseshoe at the edge of the forest. Three men crept as close as they dared to their quarry, just beyond (they hoped) hearing range. Twice did the captain's hand slice the air in signal, the second time only a heartbeat after the first.

Darts flew through the air as fast as the man with the blowgun could fire them. At the same time, the wizard cast two separate spells of holding. The captain watched, sword at the ready. He prayed with all his heart that the oddest day of his career would not turn to disaster.

His prayers, it seemed, had been duly heard.

The Hunter's quarry twitched and cried out in pain as each dart hit him, until finally the wizard's spells took hold. He fell into a stiff seated position, long auburn ponytail whipping him across the face, and he moved no more.

The captain gaped, sword halfway out of its sheath. He hardly dared believe what his eyes saw! Had they truly caught their elusive prey off guard?

_Of course… this one hasn't even seen a century pass. He's just a whelp, like the boss told us. He's quick and lucky, sure… but real power comes with age for them, so they say, and so they're right. _Thought the captain, grinning.

"Come on, men. Let's get him secured!" Called the captain to the surrounding Hunters. "And would somebody find Rayleth's worthless arse? I want him teleported on ahead of us. I don't trust this wily little prince as far as I can throw him."

He mumbled the last as he approached their quarry. When he reached the man, the captain tugged him roughly onto his back by the hair, his frozen legs pointing at the sky. The men all laughed at that. Their captain joined them, looking good-naturedly into their tired faces. He heard a light clink then, and choked upon turning to the sound.

Cupped in the hand of their captive were five tiny feather-ended darts… and he was shifting them easily around, producing the soft sound. The captain looked down, into the upturned face of the fiend. He choked again, trying to warn his men. But no sound would come. For their captive smiled, and the simmering green eyes foretold death.

"Many religions consider it a crime to waste holy water." Spoke their quarry, flicking those terrible eyes to the darts in her hand. (For certainly no man's voice came from those lips.)

The company of Hunters stood back, horrified. This monster had caught every single dart fired… and hadn't they been chasing a male?

_Twins… _The captain thought, for he could do little else. The female's hand that wasn't holding darts was clamped tightly around his throat. _What kind of soulless creature would make the effort to turn a set of twins?_

"I care nothing for _that_ crime…" Continued the not so captive, now crouched and looking at the company. The Hunter captain refocused his eyes on her face. "But I shall carry out your sentences just the same, and hope that whatever gods you call upon damn your wretched souls for all eternity."

By this point, only the Hunter's captain still hadn't moved. The rest of the company had all pulled various weapons. All were pointed close to their original quarry's sister. The troupe was shaken, but not helpless. They had been fooled, certainly… that would only make finding the brother all the easier.

But then again, only the captain understood just how badly they had been fooled. Only he understood what was about to happen to he and his company. And why not? They had been foolish, every one of them. Captain and company had missed something… something too big to be so ignored, had any of them expected to survive.

And so the captain of one troupe of thirty Hunters closed his eyes when the pained, terrified cries of his men rose up around him. It seemed an eternity before his world finally went dark.

* * *

Half a mile away, Artemis Entreri picked a few blades of grass out of his hair. Gingerly he prodded himself in the shoulder. Solid, as usual… but what in the hell had just happened? He sighed, wiped his dagger blade clean on the dead Hunter's cloak and went off to find Jarlaxle. There were still more Hunters to kill, after all.

Entreri found the drow in the clearing picking through the fallen mage's various pockets.

"Not much in the way of gold, my friend. But," Quipped the mercenary on Entreri's arrival. "A small treasure trove of gems and extremely intriguing artifacts."

His human companion didn't even bother to respond. He could hardly be surprised by Jarlaxle's behavior anymore. But, were there not more Hunters about? A great deal more, the assassin thought, as the two had only killed a handful of this troupe. Jarlaxle wouldn't really leave the rest of the company to Dusk… would he?

Perhaps Entreri would have questioned the elf further, but it was about that time when the pair heard the thunderclap…

…And the screaming. Most of the screams stopped rather abruptly. For a moment or two, only one voice rolled down the hill. And even though the words were impossible to distinguish through the screen of trees, someone was obviously very, very angry.

After a moment, the yellingceased as well, and the assassin stood blinking in the general direction of all the noise.

"Well, that was pleasant-" He started to say.

One last long, gut-wrenching shriek of pain floated down to the ears of Entreri and Jarlaxle. This one ended in a sickening gurgle.

"Shouldn't we…" Entreri started, cleared his throat and continued. "I think it's time we went and found the lady now."

Jarlaxle stared at the man for a moment, and then he grinned.

"We just did, my friend. Now, we have corpses to search. Sit down and help me."

He gestured to the second dead Hunter a few feet away. Entreri turned around and gaped at him. Oddly enough and not two heartbeats later, Jarlaxle gaped back.

"Or rather, don't sit down. In fact, I think it would be much better for all if you climbed up that tree _right now_!" Whispered the drow. He promptly hopped up and levitated to the nearest tree branch.

The assassin stared at him for a second.

"Up, man!" Jarlaxle cried from the tree. "You truly do not want to touch that!"

Wisely, Entreri followed his companion's gesturing hand. He positively flew up the nearest tree and climbed as high as there were branches to support his weight.

A small wave came barreling down the hill at speed. It was tinted red. Once it had passed, the assassin heard Jarlaxle hop smoothly to the ground, where he started to yell. The man shimmied down the tree to see what the ruckus was about.

"Oh my dear gods, _what _have I stepped in?" The drow hollered in disgust as Entreri reached the ground.

"If you would stop shaking your foot, perhaps I could tell you."

"A _spleen_?" Jarlaxle moaned. "For mercy's sake, woman, I can see that you're upset but… really, was that entirely _necessary_?"

Artemis Entreri's shoulders shook in and effort not to laugh while the drow went on ranting. Certainly that was really, truly disgusting, and it surely made him not want to look and see what he might be standing in. He really wasn't sure what had just happened, or why he found this so funny.

Or, even, whose arms were resting across his shoulders.

"I don't know what he's fussing about. It isn't as if those boots cannot be cleaned." Dusk said into his ear with a sigh.

He stiffened and grasped the lady by the chin. "Must you do that? Really?"

"Yes, I would like to know the same." Jarlaxle quipped while madly wiping his boots on the grass.

Suddenly, the lady stood nose to nose with her elven friend. "Shut up, love." She whispered. "Stop worrying over your boots and hold on to me. The last two Hunters are in the damned house. _In _the house, do you hear me?" Jarlaxle raised and eyebrow, nodding.

And suddenly, Entreri felt a great upsurge of affection for the lady.

"Assassin?" Dusk called, turning to the man. "Are you smiling, my friend?"

"Perhaps." He peered at her curiously. "Did you really say the last two are in your house? Jarlaxle and I took four between us and only two are left of thirty men?"

She grinned at him. "Yes, assassin, you heard me correctly."

With that, she offered her hand. Entreri took it without hesitation and she teleported them away.

* * *

They popped back into existence behind Dusk's house. The lady stood rigid and still for a moment, her eyes closed.

"Anton…" She growled, eyes flying open and flaring dangerously.

With that, the lady sprinted and leapt up into a levitation spell. Jarlaxle did the same and Entreri followed, grabbing the drow's belt on the way up. He stepped into the lady's room behind the other two.

Artemis Entreri backed out onto the balcony just as quickly as he had gone in, dropping his hands to his weapons.

In the middle of Dusk's room stood Anton… in his underwear. That in itself was just fine, if a little uncomfortable, for the assassin. Dusk's "brother", or whoever he was, held aloft a Hunter swordsman in one hand. The soldier made increasingly low choking sounds, and it was the cause of that which raffled Entreri so.

Anton's mouth was clamped tightly onto the Hunter's neck, sucking the very lifeblood from the hapless fellow.

The young man was not a man at all… but a vampire.

"Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry! I didn't think that any would come in here." Said Dusk, touching her brother's free arm.

He dropped the dead Hunter at his feet. "Do not be, sister." He came forward and kissed the lady's forehead.

"Are you all right?" She asked, and he chuckled.

"Much better, actually."

And he certainly looked it. The deep gash he had worn upon his arrival was now gone without a trace; the dark circles under his eyes and terrible gauntness of his skin were likewise absent. At the moment, Anton looked quite nearly human, albeit one who had never seen the sun. Except for his eyes. His eyes were still their alarmingly sharp silver, and he no longer bothered to hide the long, wicked looking fangs in his mouth.

"Oh," Added the vampire, who gestured to the other side of the room. "I left the other one alive… perhaps he might be of some use."

Crumpled up in the corner opposite Dusk's bed sat the final Hunter wizard. The cut of his robe and sheer number of jewels, likely all magical, sewn into his robe suggested that he was someone of great importance. Or _had _been someone important, at least. Now he merely gibbered quietly to himself when the collective attentions of the room focused upon him.

"How lovely." Growled the lady. The wizard tried to crawl under a nearby table. "Thank you, my dear. I think I will have a word with him. Now, if you would do me one favor more and go find a towel in the next room to cover your bum. I do believe that you are upsetting my raven haired friend, though I'll not remove these pants in front of this filth." She said, jerking her head toward the Hunter.

_If only that were why the assassin glares at my dear brother so… _Dusk thought with a small sigh. _I shall be needing the man… let us just hope that he understands that well enough to accept all of this._

With a solemn nod, Anton did as his sister asked, for he too had felt the deadly stare of Artemis Entreri boring into his back.

Through all the last few moments, the lady's own simmering gaze never left the broken wizard upon the floor. She laughed mirthlessly. The wizard had wedged himself fully under the bedside table by then, and was apparently carrying on an unintelligible conversation with the dust bunnies. At her back, the balcony doors closed.

With a flick of her wrist she tugged the man none too gently out and slammed him into the wall.

* * *

Artemis Entreri stared hard through the closed balcony doors. He had half a moment to wonder at what the lady was doing. Then Jarlaxle's voice cut in, answering his question before he even asked it.

"That, my friend, is what happens when you make Dusk angry." The drow paused, his flippant tone becoming more serious. "That could very well be you in there should you, say, decide to bring harm to her brother now that you see what he is."

Entreri snorted. "And what she is as well? She hides it a great deal better than he does, that much is certain."

"No, assassin." Sighed the mercenary. "You do not understand at all, I see. Anton is Dusk's _adopted _brother. I doubt she told you, but all of her real brothers have long passed from this world. The lady herself is not a vampire, though I gather that even Anton's maker claims her as his own daughter."

The assassin let his vision slide out of focus, digesting all of this. He shuddered.

"That justifies her failing to tell anyone, does it? Had I known that I went to fight for the safety of a bloodsucking fiend, I might not have gone at all!" Growled the man angrily.

"You fought because you had nothing better to do, even after Dusk had told you to stay behind. She was worried for your safety as well!" Jarlaxle shot back, eyeballing his companion. "She _likes _you, though I cannot see why half the time. Trust me, she is quite a bit more indulgent with you than she would be with any other human… she calls you 'friend' just as easily as you call her adopted brother 'fiend'."

Entreri rocked back on his heels at that. More than once now had Jarlaxle informed him that their enigmatic host actually liked him, even though she seemed to understand him quite well. He found himself oddly touched once more… the man just wish he knew why! Why would Dusk bother to give a damn about him?

"Still… the lady could have mentioned something. That her brother is a vampire is a lot to keep hidden…" The assassin mumbled, at a loss for anything else to say.

To that, Jarlaxle laughed.

"She said nothing because there wasn't time." The drow paused, tapping his chin. "Think of it this way, my friend. Are you more upset that Anton is what he is, or that Dusk didn't tell you?"

And to that, Entreri didn't even need to answer.

* * *

Rayleth lie on the bedroom floor where he had landed. Every inch of his body ached, and he was certain that his legs had broken when he'd been telekinetically slammed against the wall. This confused him. Hadn't the whisper in his head told him that he was a good boy? That he had done well in downing his companion, and he should be allowed to rest until 'she' had finished with Marcus? But then again, there was a great deal to confuse the poor wizard. 'She' had turned out to be a 'he'… and then there were two of the same person, but one was mostly naked. And the one with clothes had just thrown him across the room. It took him a moment, but Rayleth added up the incongruities. Finally, he was able to differentiate between the two pale red heads standing before him.

Although because the man had been driven quite insane, his mind came up with a solution far flung from the truth. The whispering in his head earlier had not, in fact, come from the nude fellow who had leapt out of the wardrobe at him. It was the other one, the one whose smell had practically climbed up his nose earlier, who had been speaking in his mind. She stood beside the vampire now, though he no longer mattered. Rayleth really didn't care about the vampire anymore, only that he had apparently displeased the female somehow. To the wizard, that was unbearable.

"I did what you asked!" He shrieked. "What have I done to anger you, my pretty mistress?"

For that, Rayleth received the mental equivalent to a kick in the face. He whimpered.

"_Wretch! Heartless excuse for a man! You hunt my brother without mercy or thought, and you dare address me so?"_ Hissed the female's voice in his head.

'She' was very displeased, indeed.

* * *

Without taking her eyes from the cowering wizard on the floor, Dusk sighed to her brother. She had quickly scoured the thoughts of the Hunter… and had found them very, very strange.

"Dear heart, _what_ in the hell did you do to him?"

"Well," Anton began. "I had to disable one and lure the other close to where I hid. As I was still physically weak, I went for their minds."

"I see. And this one," She replied, gesturing to Rayleth. "Had a ward or two on him. You broke those down, but judged too late on when to quit, am I right?"

The vampire shrugged. "I imagine so."

Dusk nodded. Anton was, after all, still quite young for a vampire. And the wizard's madness wouldn't matter for much longer, anyhow. She turned from her brother and approached the last of those who had hunted him.

"I am sure that there are a pair of father's pants in the downstairs closet. Go and find them, please." Whispered the lady.

With a last wicked, mirthless grin at the Hunter, Anton did as his sister asked. Dusk waited until she heard him vault over the stair railing before crouching down before the wizard. She grabbed him roughly by the chin and stopped his squirming with a look.

"Your name is Rayleth." She stated, slowly and evenly. The wizard nodded and grinned stupidly. "I have no wish to look any further into your twisted little mind, Rayleth. If you answer my questions, perhaps I might find the will to tell you who _I_ am."

"Yes ma'am, anything!" Rayleth eagerly blurted out.

Dusk raised an eyebrow. Indeed, Anton had done quite a number on this one.

"Why did your company seek my brother, my little servant?" She asked, trying very hard not to kill the man then and there.

Rayleth's face drooped for a moment. "The fiend? The one who looks like you?"

"Yes."

"Oh." He replied with a laugh. "He is the sire of the Old One. Our master needs the king, but he cannot get to him yet. So we were to take the favored prince and _bing! _The Old One comes to our master, and…"

The frightening glimmer in the lady's eyes clued Rayleth that he shouldn't finish his sentence. Dusk leaned in closer to him.

"Why does your master need Lord Marcellus?" She asked in a whisper.

"With the Old One's blood, our master will make us immortal… a thousand times more powerful." Grinned the wizard. "But first, he will make the fiend get something for him that he cannot reach himself."

Dusk's face went rigid. That last bit was the answer she had been dreading most.

"What is it that your master will have Marcellus retrieve?" She asked, though she could surmise the answer well enough.

"He doesn't say much of it." He replied with a frown. "It is… a talisman that used to belong to an old dead king. He says that it can give him power over Torril."

Dusk stared hard at the man. Rayleth started to shy away but she grabbed his head and held him still, smiling all too sweetly.

"Good boy." She whispered. "Do you want me to tell you who I am now?"

The Hunter babbled some unintelligible 'yes' and 'thanks' at the same time.

"Then I shall show you." Growled the lady, gripping Rayleth just a little bit harder.

With a thought she dispelled the magic hiding the tattoo on her face. The wizard choked. His body couldn't decide whether it wanted to squirm away or freeze up on him, and Dusk laughed, low and sinister.

"You recognize the symbol, oh follower would-be gods?" She suddenly roared into his face. "Tell me what it means, Rayleth the Fool!"

The wizard was shaking in fear by then, and it took him a long time indeed to stop his teeth from chattering long enough to answer. For a moment, though, he managed to regain some of his sense.

"Y-you can't be here!" He stammered. "You were all killed centuries ago!"

The lady laid her forehead against Rayleth's. "Very nearly." She growled. "But not quite. Tell your master for me, once he reaches the layer of hell that I now release you to."

* * *

Many miles away, a great and terrible creature stirred upon his throne. A cursory inspection of the thing would reveal a man in his early thirties. He might be considered stunningly handsome by many, with his silky chocolate colored hair spilling far down his back and a statuesque form. In fact, most women would love him on sight… until one took notice of his eyes. They were straight black, from one side to the other, and the color seemed to swirl with life of its own.

It would be fair to say that this creature was old, though even he couldn't remember exactly when he came into existence. For simplicity's sake let us merely say that the creature ages around seven hundred years. That was the age of the body he inhabited, anyhow.

The creature stood, and half a dozen servants flocked to his side.

"What is it, my Lord?" One dared to ask. The little man nearly fell over when his master actually answered him.

"They are dead." He paused, staring at nothing for a moment. "All of them. But how, I wonder?"

The servant's eyes widened. "Who is dead, my Lord?"

The creature laughed, and the servant skittered back. "Who they were is of no consequence. _How_, and by whom… that is what matters!"

And with that, he strode off toward his private chambers. He left a wake of confused and rather frightened servants to wonder at the words of their master.


	6. And then the Fight Started

Chapter 6: …and then the fight started.

Artemis Entreri awoke with a start. He sat up and immediately his hand flew to his temple.

_Damn this headache! _He thought with a groan. Ever since his battle with the Hunter mage, a terrible stabbing pain had plagued his head if he moved too quickly. Bloody stupid wizards and their gods damned potions!

Even though his gauntlet had caught the holding spell, the assassin did get an eyeful of whatever that terrible stinging powder had been. Certainly it had hurt for a few hours, but Entreri was sure that he'd gotten it all out of his eyes and after that, the effects had gone away. But now this headache… it was as bad as when he'd been sick!

He growled and swung his feet onto the floor.

The worst bit, according to Entreri, was that Dusk had told him that there might be some lingering effects. She had offered to help, of course, and of course he had refused. It would be traitorous to the man's nature to allow someone to tend to his injuries so often. If he couldn't take care of himself, the assassin knew, then perhaps he really was getting too old for this kind of living. But what other life did he know?

He stopped _that _line of questions then and there. Not because it bothered him (though it did, indeed), but because it felt like something was moving about his ankles.

Entreri jerked his legs back up onto the bed, peering warily at the floor. Or rather, at the fog that positively blanketed the floor. The entire room was covered in it… so much so that his bed appeared to float on shifting clouds. And he hadn't even noticed because of this damned persistent headache.

_Perhaps, _he thought, _I should ask for the lady's help… just this once._

The assassin stepped gingerly onto the floor. Sure, it looked like regular mountain fog that he was stepping into. Where he came from, though, the fog never slithered into a second story window and took up silent residence _inside_ the house. It wasn't so thick in the hall, thankfully… at least there Entreri could see the floor.

"Dusk?" He called, knocking lightly on the lady's door.

No answer came. Ceremony set aside, Entreri walked into the room anyway.

_Of course. When I actually want to see the woman, she is nowhere to be found. _Thought the assassin bitterly.

The fog was much thicker in the lady's rooms. Even so, Dusk had quite obviously gone out. The balcony doors stood wide open, and nothing moved but the swirling vapor.

"By hell, the world is gone…" Whispered Entreri after stepping out onto the balcony.

Indeed, it seemed that he was correct. Inside Dusk's room, the fog was thick, to be sure. But one could see through it and didn't have the feeling that the sky had fallen on top of them. Outside was a world of a thousand shades of white, and even Entreri's keen eyes could only penetrate a foot of so in front of his nose.

The assassin was suddenly aware that _someplace_ out in the fog, someone hummed a quiet, melodious tune. Exactly where was impossible to determine. Sound came from all directions on nights like this, and unless one particular sound was indeed what he thought…

_Someone must be playing a joke… she _cannot _be out swimming in this mess._

"Lady, are you really out there?" Entreri called to the general direction of the lake.

A low splash sounded, as though someone very lithe had just dived underwater very quickly.

"Perhaps," Dusk's reply came moments later, rebounding off the mist. "You truly can't see?"

He sighed. "Of course! I can see that you will ever be a pain in my backside, but that won't clear up this damned fog."

The lady laughed at him. "Apparently you need something, or you would not have sought me out. Come down and join me!"

Entreri shook his head at his own folly with the woman. He balanced himself on the ledge of the balcony, preparing to dive off into the lake as he had seen Dusk do from time to time…

"Don't come that way!" She cried. "You'll hit the rocks and drown before I can get to you!"

He snorted. "The rocks are the only things I can see, thank you! If you would like to explain how _you _miss the damned things and I cannot, you have my full attention."

"I mean the rocks at the bottom, assassin! They come up rather fast from that height, even I don't miss them every time!" Dusk let out an exasperated sigh. "Just use the door, my friend."

Reluctantly, Entreri did. He came all the way downstairs and out to the lake mumbling something along the lines of _–-ing rocks at the bottom_, _my ass. I would honestly like to know how she doesn't drown if she hits her head on them… -ing infuriating woman, I'll have to kill her someday, she leaves me such little choice…_

"Would you bother to tell me if I were about to fall in the water?" He asked when he reached the transition from grass to rock near the lake.

Dusk snapped her fingers, the sound bouncing off the fog like a kick drum in a gymnasium. A small flame licked up from the palm of her hand. The assassin could see her by its light, if only just through the haze, and she was grinning. The lady held herself up by her arms on a protruding rock, propping her chin in one hand.

"Do you honestly think me capable of being so cruel to you?" She asked with a shake of her head.

"Sometimes you do not make it easy to believe otherwise." He growled in reply.

Entreri sat down cross-legged a few feet in front of the woman. He winced unconsciously, as the light from Dusk's small flame glinted off the fog rather fiercely. On this night, even something so small as the light caused him terrible pain. Dusk doused flame at once. Of course, such was both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, the assassin didn't have to try and avoid looking at the light… but it meant that the lady had noticed his moment of quiet agony.

He sighed, opened his mouth to speak and shut it as soon as he'd opened his eyes.

Two points of light, brilliant green in color, shimmered out of the murky darkness. It didn't take Entreri long to realize just what he was seeing.

"What are you?" He asked, and not for the first time, with a shake of his head.

All he received in return was a cheeky smile.

"Heat sensing eyes glow red, not green…" Reasoned the assassin. "Human eyes simply do not glow at all, not without magic, and for once you are using none. What you are doing right now rules out just about every race I have personally encountered!" He paused. "What are you doing, anyway?"

Dusk sighed. "Another time, perhaps, I shall tell you. For now, I see that your need is more pressing." The assassin dropped his querulous expression in favor of a scowl at that. "Really, you shouldn't look at me so! I do not read your mind, but I know perfectly well your pain. The powder blown in your eyes yesterday morning was not _meant _to be used on humans… of course it is wreaking havoc on your head now.

"It feels as though someone is driving a nail through your skull every time you move, am I correct?"

"Indeed." Entreri furrowed his brow at her. Why did the lady always seem to know far too much?

She gestured that the man come within her reach, pulling herself just a bit farther upon the rock. At her motion the assassin moved closer. He sighed in mock despair and averted his eyes… and again, it was something that he'd found himself doing more than once. For someone who seemed so worldly, Dusk apparently had quite an aversion to clothing. The lady tactfully ignored his disdain. She reached out for him and placed her hands over the assassin's dark eyes.

Or at least, that is what she meant to do. Entreri jerked back reflexively at the movement.

"Have no worry, my friend. If I were going to harm you, I believe that I would have enough respect to warn you first." She chuckled.

The assassin nodded, even going to far as to bring his face just a little bit closer. Dusk's little smile fell away. Again she sighed.

"And do have faith that this will hurt me far more than you."

And when she touched the face of her only human companion, pulling the effects of the Hunter wizard's potion onto herself, she cried out in pain.

* * *

_Bang bang bang!_

Such came the sound that awoke Dusk, floating up to the second floor as gently as a hammer to the skull. The lady opened one bleary eye. Someone with no apparent sense of decency was pounding on her front door. She went to get up but immediately thought better of it. Anyone with a pressing need of her this day was either already in the house or wasn't the type to knock. Holding her head she lie back down, settling to simply hollering as loudly as she might toward the open window.

"Piss off, we don't want any!" At a gesture, Dusk shut the window, bolted it and drew the curtains.

"Now I am certain that you aren't feeling well. Never have I heard you use the phrase 'piss off'." Came the chuckling voice of Jarlaxle to the left side of the lady's bed.

She pulled a pillow over her face. "'Bugger off', then. Is that ladylike enough for you?"

"Ah, but you wound me." The drow sighed. "There is an elf at your door. A dark haired one… I believe I put a dagger in his knee last week, though now he looks a little overdressed for being out in the middle of nowhere."

Dusk growled. "Please tell me that this description is wrong… high boots, a green satin tunic, black pants, probably velvet, and a white half-cape?"

"Sorry dear. That description is no less than perfect."

The lady cursed.

"That is it! I'm going to kill him." Growled Dusk to Jarlaxle. "Where is my brother? It would be a heinous waste of blood to utterly destroy that pompous idiot before Anton has had his breakfast!"

Jarlaxle winced. He had seen a great deal of truly disgusting things in his lifetime, but that image alone was enough to put him off red wine for some time. Apparently, the lady really did not like the man at her door. At least he had stopped his hammering for the moment.

"Wait, you have mentioned this one before… is he the one who wants to marry you?" Asked the drow. His friend's resounding snarl told him that he was correct. "Why not simply marry him, then? You could always kill him later and put it down to a… cutlery accident, say."

A boot flew with horrible accuracy at his head. Jarlaxle took that as a no. As the lady went rifling through her dresser, her brother floated up over the balcony. Anton floated soundlessly behind his sister and lifted the woman off her feet. He twirled her around for half a moment before kissing her cheek.

"Did I hear you mention breakfast?" He asked with a toothy half grin. "I was about to go looking for a deer, but I believe you also mentioned killing someone… I would, of course, be more than happy to oblige if you need."

With some alarm the spectating dark elf, who had unconsciously hitched his collar up a little higher, noticed that Dusk seemed to actually think about this suggestion. She whacked her head gently into her brother's chest once or twice, as though she really might like to allow him to do this. The lady sighed and closed her eyes before answering. An amused and utterly wicked grin spread across her face.

"No, my love, that won't do. Lena would be quite upset if I killed her half-brother." She sighed once more, gesturing that she would like to be put down. Anton set her on her feet. "I believe I have a better idea. Perhaps it is time for the old suitor to meet the new one… if you would be so kind as to go and wake the assassin? He won't like this, but then again he is never very pleased with me anyway."

She turned to retrieve the boot that she'd thrown at Jarlaxle, pausing only to take notice of her brother's expression.

"Beg pardon?" He asked with a look of sheer horror on his face. "Please tell me that I heard incorrectly… you just used the word 'suitor' in the same sentence in which you spoke of Artemis Entreri, did you not?"

Dusk blinked at her brother, silent for some time, before she could figure out what was bothering him.

_Oh yes…_ Thought the lady. She stifled a laugh. _He couldn't know, he only arrived yesterday. Oh, dear what must he be thinking?_

"That does need a bit of an explanation, if you will pardon me." Dusk replied with a smile.

With that, she slipped an arm around the vampire and explained the little game they had been playing to keep herself, Jarlaxle and Entreri all relatively safe from overzealous elves and the like. Anton was laughing quietly by the time he left to go and wake the assassin.

Dusk, still struggling with an unruly pair of pants after her brother had gone, snapped her head up. She really, truly hoped that it was her imagination, but knew that the sound she heard was quite real.

The front door had just been opened. Dareenfeil was coming in, ready or not.

* * *

Artemis Entreri awoke to the sound of someone hammering on the front door. He was fully awake and half dressed in half a heartbeat. From two rooms away he could hear Dusk whispering harshly to Jarlaxle in a tongue he didn't understand. Something was wrong, but what? Well, beside the fact that he now shared living space with a very powerful but apparently crazy woman… and Jarlaxle, he alone was enough… oh, and a vampire. In that light, the assassin pondered, what could possibly make things anymore out of place than they usually were?

He changed his silent quickstepping course from the window to the door with merely a turn of his heel. Entreri reached beneath his pillow for his shirt and sword belt. The belt he found, his shirt was strangely missing. He didn't even bother with an exasperated sigh, for he knew already who had taken the shirt and that sighing wouldn't get it back any faster. That was Dusk's little joke… she thought it the height of comedy to steal various articles of his clothing while he slept.

The assassin firmly latched his belt and drew his dagger in a motion. Little out of the ordinary was amiss this morning, but it never hurt to be sure. Therefore, Artemis Entreri was only slightly surprised when, while reaching for the doorknob, he was seemingly yanked up by the back of his pants and stuck quite firmly to the ceiling.

Staring at the floor with a positively murderous expression on his face, Entreri at last sighed.

"Have it as you will, lady." He growled. "Tonight, there will be no more folly, no more games, only my blade at your throat."

The assassin promised, fully confident that Dusk could hear him.

"Oh dear." Came the answer. The half open door admitted Anton, to the assassin's distaste. He glared down and the lady's adopted sibling. The vampire prince's silver gaze zeroed in on him.

"Good morning to you, assassin. I shall pass the message onto my sister. No doubt she was too busy cursing her clothing to hear your challenge." Anton grinned quietly, hiding his teeth. He splayed out his slender fingers in a thoughtful gesture, as though the fact that the person he was speaking to was stuck to the ceiling hardly mattered. "It is the pants, you see. You have no idea how my sister hates them."

Entreri crossed one arm over his chest and rested the opposite elbow in his palm, his dagger held by the tip and cocked to throw.

"Get me down." The assassin demanded slowly and deliberately, so that Dusk's brother could not possibly take any other meaning from his words.

Anton sighed. "Although it is likely not in my best interests, I shall do as you ask. But," He began, only to sidestep the jeweled dagger that came hurtling at his chest with alarming accuracy. It thudded into the wall behind him. "If you will only listen to me momentarily, you will see that my sister only put you up there for your own protection. We have a guest. Had you exited this room any sooner, you might have been seen. That would not, I believe, have been in _your _best interests. I will get you down now, as promised, but I ask that you hear me out before exiting this room."

Anton raised a hand, pointing his fingers in Entreri's general direction. The assassin winced. He had never liked spellcasters, especially when they were casting at him. Then he shivered… something odd was happening. His stomach felt like it wanted to swoop down to the vicinity of his knees. He stared down at the vampire, wondering what exactly he could be doing. The silver eyes were closed and the pale lips did not move.

Whatever had been holding Entreri suddenly let go. The assassin dropped. Though he wasn't prepared for this, he managed to get his arms over his face just before he hit…

Nothing. He heard a small exhalation of relief and dared to uncover his face. Entreri looked up at Anton. The vampire still held one arm outstretched, though now it was level with the assassin's wide-eyed gaze. Silver eyes, now open, flicked down for a brief moment. Entreri's gray ones followed. He hovered perhaps a foot and a half above the floor. He dropped his hands to the floor, and Anton let him drop from there.

"My apologies once again, assassin. Dusk's telekinetic hold is quite difficult to break. Vampires thrice my age have trouble managing it… though she usually does it with furniture, not people. Broken furniture is far easier to repair than broken limbs, after all." Anton added the last with an amused grin. "Anyhow,"

"What?" A shaken assassin stood up.

Dusk's brother gave him the most sincere look of bemusement at being interrupted. "The comment about furniture confuses you, yes?"

Entreri nodded, one eyebrow raised high.

"I am sure my sister will explain, should you deign to ask her to." He answered with a dismissive wave. "Now, to the matter at hand…"

"Dusk stuck me to the ceiling." The assassin pressed. He was still unsure of what had just happened, and that bothered him. "But you brought me down?"

"Yes, assassin. Have you a point to make?" Anton's maddeningly long line of patience was wearing short, and it showed in his voice.

"Which one of you caught me when I fell?"

The vampire sighed. "I did."

"Why?" Entreri asked with some urgency. "I tried to kill you. If you weren't so quick, you would be dead. Why spare me the pain of broken limbs, knowing that I am no friend to you, when it wasn't necessary?"

Anton chuckled. "My dear fellow, have you any idea how cross Dusk would be with me if I had let you fall? You look as though you are going to ask me 'why' again. I beg you not to do so."

Seemingly out of thin air, Dusk's brother produced Entreri's missing shirt. He threw it to the man.

"This guest, is it someone the lady cannot handle on her own?" Entreri asked while he pulled the shirt over his head. He would get no further answers from the younger sibling, he knew. He would make it a point to ask the elder before knocking her head in. For now, the assassin would play along with whatever task Dusk had for him this time.

He received a slight contemplative growl before any answer.

"She is capable of handling him alone, but as she put it, Dusk would rather not have to kick him back to his tree." A fleeting smile crossed Anton's face. "My sister told you of an elf, one bearing the name Dareenfeil?"

Entreri narrowed his gaze and gave only the slightest nod. He remembered that conversation well enough.

"Doubtless she told you what this elf sought when he followed you and your companion last week."

Once more Entreri nodded, this time in understanding. He knew what the lady wanted of him before Anton had said it.

"Doubtless, then, you understand why she could not allow this elf to see you before I had the chance to speak with you."

Of course Entreri understood. Had he exited his room when he'd planned, he would have done so with sword and dagger at the ready, silent, poised and deadly. The elf would have seen Artemis Entreri, the famed assassin… the very man whose head he had come looking to take. A sick man no longer, Entreri knew that he could take one elf with ease. But, as Dusk had put it, how far could he run? How many would he have to kill before someone with the same intent for his head finally caught up?

"What would your sister have me do?" Entreri asked with a groan, knowing that he wouldn't like the answer.

The fleeting grin returned. "Dusk does not wish Dareenfeil to see you for who you truly are. For perhaps half an hour, for she intends on having the elf here no longer than that, my dear sister needs her fiancé. Your drow friend tells me that you are very good with disguises. Dusk has suggested a less a disguise of appearance, but more one of personality."

Anton might have said more, but Entreri waved him away. _Why do I do this? Why? _He asked himself. Nonetheless, he already had a clear mental picture of what he must do. He held back yet another groan of displeasure while he untucked his shirt. The assassin undid his shirt buttons, only to re-button them completely cockeyed with the top few buttons left open. He carefully mussed up his hair before tying it back with one hand and unclasped his sword with the other.

With furrowed brow, Entreri turned his attention back to Anton. He hardly believed the words coming out of his mouth… but then, did Dusk not want him to appear entirely unlike himself?

"Your sister has some rum about the place, does she not?"

The vampire laughed, not loudly, but with true mirth. This man knew his sister very well.

* * *

It was all Jarlaxle could do to catch Dusk before she dropped an expensive, but above all very _heavy,_ lamp stand on the head of the elf who had just walked uninvited into her home. Even so, he only just caught her arm before the lady let fly. He was met with a positively flaming emerald gaze.

"No!" The ever-pragmatic drow whispered harshly. "Mustn't kill your friend's half-brother, at least not half dressed! Mustn't kill, remember?"

The lady's only reply was a carefully blank expression. _Coming from you,_ the look said, _do you really think your words make it any easier not to kill him? _With great reluctance and over dramatic care, Dusk put down the lamp stand. She guided Jarlaxle back toward the wall with an arm. Quietly she returned to her bedroom to retrieve her pants. The lady pulled them on with force, nearly ripped them, sighed and started down the stairs.

Jarlaxle watched from above, halfway to laughter. His intruding surface cousin crept ever closer. The elf stood in the shadow of the hall doorway, his keen ears seeking for any sound, his hand resting easily on his sword hilt.

At last, the watching Jarlaxle smiled. What ever did this Dareenfeil expect to find?

"Dareenfeil!" Dusk cried a little too merrily as she came into the elf's visual range. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

He stared at the lady, uncertain, for the briefest second. Within the span of the next second, many things happened at once.

Dareenfeil grabbed Dusk by her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, saying;

"Mielekki's grace, I thought you were dead!"

To which, in response, the lady brought one leg around and behind the elf's knee. She pulled her own leg in sharply toward herself, knocking the unsuspecting fellow flat on his back.

And while the elf was getting indignantly to his feet, Jarlaxle tried not to laugh out loud…

…While straight past him bolted Artemis Entreri. The human ran, tripped, rolled halfway down the stairs to the bottom landing and stood up, swaying, before he vaulted over the banister. He roughly helped Dareenfeil up by way of the elf's collar and shook a finger in his face.

"Pardon me, my good…" The assassin looked the elf over. "…sir. But you mustn't touch my betrothed."

And then, Dareenfeil snapped an open palm into his chin. He really didn't need to, for the man, who positively reeked of rum, fell over of his own accord.

The elf's gaze fell over Dusk, who looked at him as she might something filthy on her shoe.

"Please…" He whispered while the purest look of horror fell over his face. "_Please_ tell me that this… this _rogue_… was referring to someone else when he said 'betrothed'."

"I would be lying, if I told you such a thing." The lady spat in reply. She turned her attentions to the assassin, who seemed to be struggling to stand back up.

"Oh, my poor dear…" She said, kneeling down beside the man's head.

Dusk kissed his chin upside down. The horrified look the elf wore turned into a full facial twitch. Her hair fell over his face so that Dareenfeil, standing above, could not see her mouth the words _thank you_ to the assassin.

* * *

Twenty minutes later an assassin, an elf and the lady were once again seated in Dusk's den. Once more the tale of how the human male came to be there was told. Snippets were, as before, left out (particularly bits about throwing daggers and knees) while others were added in (concerning proposals that didn't happen, or rather, happened inadvertently and in an entirely different way).

"And so you see," Said Dusk, who was serving drinks. "I am quite fine, quite well protected, and you ran up here in a fuss for positively no reason."

She handed Dareenfeil a drink with a rather pointed look as a sidecar. The look sailed right past him, however, for the elf seemed to have something on his mind. He gave Dusk a long, hard look while she circled around to grab Entreri's drink. He truly didn't think the man needed one, but held his tongue on _that_ matter.

"You didn't hear the screaming yesterday, if you believe that all is well here." Spoke the elf at last.

Jarlaxle, listening from upstairs by way of the ring on the lady's left hand, raised an eyebrow. Dusk raised another one, just for good measure. 'Screaming? We must have missed that... Oh dear, do tell.' Said the look on her face. She nodded, gesturing for the elf to continue.

"I suppose I may as well tell you." Sighed Dareenfeil. "Truly I have no wish to trouble you with it, but perhaps you will at last see reason, once you know what I do." He paused to favor the lady with an ominous look. "A month past, I tracked a dark elf and a human to the edge of the forest surrounding both your home and mine. The drow looks like a joke, but by all reports is, in truth, one to ware.

"The reputation of the human travelling with the drow, though…" And at this, the elf shook his head. "The human is a monster, to be sure. Deadly and dangerous to all who cross his path, this man, I believe I may say with some certainty, is evil incarnate. I tracked both the dark elf and the human within five miles of where we sit _as I now speak_… and then I lost them.

"Just yesterday, I picked up the pair's trail anew. Would you like to know how I found it, lady?"

Dusk favored the fellow with a set of wide eyes and a timid nod. In truth, she _really _wanted to elbow her 'fiancé' in the ribs with a quip of _'evil incarnate, eh?'_

Satisfied with the reaction thus far to his tale, Dareenfeil continued on.

"The horrible, tortured screaming of a single man reverberating through the forest reached my ears. It came from mere miles up the mountain from your home and went on for quite some time." The elf sighed. "Of course, myself and my best trackers went to investigate, and sadly, were far too late to be of any use to this man. We never even found his body, nor the bodies of the two score others with the fellow, for there were traces of many others. What we did find was… well, far too disturbing to even repeat before you, my lady."

The elf paused, sipped his drink, and kept talking.

"Whatever happened up on that hill was the work of monsters. The very two, I am sure, that I tracked so very close to _here_ before losing the trail. And here you sit, telling me that you heard no screaming, that nothing is amiss in these lands?"

Each face wore an identically grim expression in light of such news. Except for that of Artemis Entreri, who gave a derisive snort. It was the first sound he'd made since he had sat down.

The man took a glass from Dusk with great care from his awkward angle draped sideways across an armchair. He then lifted his head and in the same motion as he'd taken his drink, the assassin grabbed the lady by her opposite hip and yanked her into his lap. (And, admittedly, nearly hurt himself. Yanking women into his lap had never been among the assassin's well used skills.)

"Screaming?" Entreri seemed to muse. A small laugh replaced the earlier snort. "My dear friend, I heard plenty of screaming yesterday but I hardly think..."

What he hardly thought was muffled by Dusk's hand, clamped quickly over his mouth.

"_I _hardly think that anyone need hear about that, thank you."

And to the end of his life, Dareenfeil's admittedly fair face carried a twitch.

* * *

A sliver of moonlight lit the sleeping house. Silent as death, a single form stalked down the hall. Though none watched, it would have passed as nothing but a shadow to even a well-trained eye. One fluid quickstep after another brought it before a door. The form stopped. A blur of movement, impossible to follow, suggested that a hand ran a check for traps over the door. It found nothing, neither mechanical nor magical.

_Funny, _thought the shadow. _I seem to be expected._

One watching very carefully might have seen the suggestion of a human shape press itself against the door in question. In one motion, the shape opened the door and, without a sound, shimmied up on top of the narrow ledge. To the sleeper inside, it appeared as though the door had come unlatched and opened on it's own.

Though the sleeper wasn't sleeping. _This_ sleeper was perched carefully atop one bedpost, watching.

One unmoving, barely visible form peered at the other.

"Do you intend to end my life?" Whispered the one on the bedpost.

Small movement on top of the door suggested a shrug. "Had that been my intention, I would have already done so. No, I intend to end your foolery."

A small nod from the bedpost. "No armor, no weapons, no magic?"

The door swung back and forth ever so slightly, as though the form on top rocked on the balls of its feet in thought. The swinging stopped. The form nodded.

Each hopped gracefully down from its perch. The door slid silently closed while various weaponry and heavier clothing were piled off to one side. An onlooker would have had to look less carefully to find that one form was male, one female.

The moonlit female form held wide its arms. The other quickly passed it over with one still gloved hand. This form scowled.

"No magic? You still have one spell in place."

"My apologies, but I cannot remove that one."

"Why?"

"I would be unable to stand without it." The female form shook its head. "Don't ask me why again, for I cannot answer. Keep the gauntlet if you wish."

The male form nodded reluctantly.

Artemis Entreri grinned in the darkness, only slightly disturbed to find his grin matched by the lopsided half-smile of the lady Dusk… and then the fight started.

Clearly _something _was wrong with the lady's legs if she required magic to stand. The assassin filed this away for use later, as he knew that she might expect an attack there to end a fight quickly. He aimed a kick at her throat instead, not exactly intending that his foot should connect there. As he had meant it to, it sent the lady _back_… though not quite in the way he had expected.

Instead of stepping backward, Dusk simply _bent_ backward, nearly in half. She came up in a swing to the assassin's left. Taking firm hold of the man's wrist, she spun herself along with the rest of his arm behind Entreri. Not to be taken out so easily, he dropped his weight straight back. Following the momentum of the lady's tug, Entreri threw both of them to the floor.

Somehow, the lady was not pinned beneath his back. At the last moment she slipped out from under the falling assassin. He received a knee to the chest for his trouble, and once more, Dusk was on her feet. Right behind came Entreri. He grabbed the lady by one trailing ankle, but she slid under his legs and kicked him square in the ass with her free leg.

She used her own momentum to swing up behind Entreri and rail her fist into the back of his neck… but he was ready for it. The lady connected with air and was dealt a glancing blow from his elbow across her cheek.

Round and round they went as such. Near equal in speed of movement, neither could take the upper hand with a quick move. Entreri was physically stronger, but Dusk was far more flexible. The assassin could scarcely get make a blow count for much since she could nearly always get out of the way.

The passing of an hour found both on the floor, wedged between the dresser and the wardrobe.

Entreri sat, pinned against the wall behind Dusk, one iron arm wrapped around her ribs. His miraculously recovered dagger rested under her chin.

Dusk sat on his stomach, his legs locked up through both of hers, his other arm pinned to his chest. Her slender fingers were wrapped around his windpipe, ready to crush it with the smallest squeeze.

They stared at each other, both lightly bruised, bleeding from the nose and sweating.

"You cheated." Whispered the lady with care.

"Evil incarnate, remember?" The assassin managed to choke out.

Dusk would have laughed if not for the dagger. "All I have to do is flick my wrist, you know."

Moonlight glinted sharply off his dagger. "Just a nick, you see…"

Each narrowed their eyes at the other. His cold gray and her fierce green bored into each other, trying to peer into the very soul of the other.

In one swift movement they disengaged. At the same time as Entreri's dagger came away from Dusk's throat, so did her fingers let go of his. She flipped forward, he right behind and to one side. Both stood, each facing the other. They watched, waiting for some other sign of attack… none came.

Entreri knew, then, that his point had been well taken. He would no longer wake to find articles of his clothing missing, and would certainly never be stuck to the ceiling again.

The lady's glittering eyes followed him as he collected his weapons and put on the rest of his clothes. But she made no comment, not even so much as a snicker as he pulled his boots back on. (For some reason, Dusk found the act of putting on any sort of footwear to be incredibly amusing. Entreri had once asked why, and not entirely unexpectedly, she refused to answer.) All of this pleased the assassin greatly, for now she knew better.

He would play her game if she so wished, but without the silliness and generally by his own rules.

Entreri turned to face his strange host once more.

"Good night, Madam."

"Good night, Artemis."

And with that, he grinned, inclined his head in salute and went off to bed. Though he heard the lady chuckling through the closed door, the man found that he couldn't be angry. At least she had known better than to call him 'dear'.

* * *

"_Artemis;_

_Enclosed within the fold of this page you will find an invitation to a ball. My adoptive father's, no less… he holds one once every twenty years. _

_This may seem a very strange thing for me to present you with. In fact, I rather think it is as well. No human has ever attended. Amusingly enough, neither have I. But I must speak with my father in secret. He knows this, and thusly this is the plan he has devised to make it possible for us to speak without others suspecting why. It is vitally important that I speak with my father. _

_Doubtless you could hear at least some of the words uttered by our intruder of the wizardly persuasion a few days past. The leader of the rabble known as the 'Hunters' seeks a powerful talisman. I know what it is, and that it would be quite worrisome if this creature actually got a hold of it. I know what, but not where it is. This my father knows, at least in part, and is the very reason I must speak with him. I must retrieve this talisman first… pardon my cryptic ridiculousness, but the consequences will be dire if I am unable to complete this task._

_Think of this odd little note (and even more odd enclosure) as an invitation to travel with Anton, Jarlaxle and I. It is nearly a week's journey to my father's home. We must travel on foot, as no horse will allow my brother to ride. Should you choose to accept, please prepare to leave tomorrow after sunset. I have taken care of every foreseeable eventuality. Should you choose to decline, you are more than welcome to stay here until we return. I will allow no harm to come to you whatever your decision. _

_I truly wish to have you by my side._

_-D._

_PS: Please do not refuse the invitation for a silly reason, say, that you have nothing to wear to a ball. I have taken care of that as well."_

So read Artemis Entreri when he woke. He had found the carefully folded note sitting upon his chest. How the lady placed it there without his notice, he likely would never find out. He read the note twice, simply to be certain of its meaning.

For some time the assassin sat in silence. Staring off at the opposite wall, his eyes unfocused, Entreri contemplated his position.

"_I will allow no harm to come to you…" _That line he found very interesting. He wondered if Dusk honestly meant it. Did she believe that Entreri might be faced with some sort of harm, regardless of whether or not he went with her?

Most worrisome, though, was the last line. Not the cheeky and not entirely unexpected 'PS' but the line before. _Why_ in any level of hell would the lady want him by her side for something like this? The very strangeness of it all (even the lady herself had admitted that it _was_ strange) made the assassin's head ache!

Entreri pulled a hand over his face, wincing slightly as his fingers ran over his chin. The lady had a kick like a mule, that at least was certain. He sighed.

"I haven't a choice, do I?" The assassin muttered to the empty room.

It struck him then that yes, he really did have a choice. But it was far more than the choice to go or stay. What Dusk offered was, perhaps, a purpose. An outlet for his lately little used and stifling skills. It was either that or… what? Stay here and get soft? Become even more useless that the assassin had felt since he'd been sick? The lady knew –she had to know- that Entreri wanted no such thing. But what, then, did he truly want?

In that moment, he didn't know how to answer that all-important question. Quiet depression stole over the assassin. With a growl he shoved it away.

While Dusk clearly expected no trouble on this journey, she wanted him there… just in case.

"There is nothing for it." Entreri chuckled to himself. "I have to go with you, don't I? If for no better reason that to find out what it is that you want of me, I must go with you."

The assassin stood, placing the note and gilt-edged invitation on his bed. He washed, dressed and shaved.

_To a ball?_ He questioned, staring hard at his reflection in the mirror.

Artemis Entreri shook his head. Why the hell not?

* * *

"What are you doing?" Came a soft, resonating voice from behind the assassin. There was no need for him to turn and find out who had disturbed his introspection… the voice of the lady Dusk was quite telling enough.

Entreri snorted in response.

"I might ask the same of you, since it is rather late for stargazing."

And indeed, he was correct. Though Dusk did like to stare at the night sky, the moon and stars had already faded with the passing hour.

The lady came to stand at his side, offering little but a chuckle for a moment. She stared up at the black sky, shrouded in further darkness by her voluminous hood.

"Each evening I watch the sky." She whispered suddenly. "At times I wonder whether or not to bother any longer, so many nights have I seen it. But, now and again, I find some new wonder hanging high above my head. And when the stars hide their faces for the night, it is of little matter. There is always something new, something beautiful to behold. Whether it be pronounced and bright or cloaked in darkness, there is always something I have not yet seen."

The assassin did turn to face her then, knowing full well that she hadn't been speaking of the sky entirely. Artemis Entreri frowned.

"Then your eyes must be far better than my own, for I see only darkness."

"Oh no, not at all." Dusk said, and ignored his brooding comment completely. "Look… there for a moment." She said, pointing to a spot to the west.

Entreri eyeballed her curiously. Wondering what she was getting at, he followed the line of her finger.

At first he saw nothing. He stood staring down the line of her gesturing hand for a few long moments, his mood growing darker. There was nothing to see, and perhaps that was the point Dusk tried to make to him now. Then, just as the man might have turned away, he saw it. Far to the west, a bright ball streaked through the sky.

From white to blue it seemed to fade, leaving a muddled trail of color behind, and then it was gone.

The assassin stared blankly at the spot where the short but spectacular show had been. He was unsure what exactly he had just seen, but he knew that he would wish to see it again, were it possible.

"What was that?" Entreri whispered, still staring at the once again blank sky.

"A falling star." Simply replied the lady. She smiled at him. "And it is for that I left the comfort of my bed this night. I had not expected company, but it is good that you were here to see it with me."

Turning to face the lady, Entreri inwardly wondered at her. As he had stooped practically over her shoulder to look at what she was pointing out, the assassin finally caught a glimpse of her expression. Beneath the low-slung hood, Dusk looked troubled. This was far from normal. Even more rare was it that she allowed anyone to see her in such a state. And yet, now she seemed not to care that Entreri was looking at her. She lifted her face to meet his eyes, and it was all the cautious man could to stay in place mere inches from his tentative friend.

Dusk chuckled. Perhaps she should explain her comment. "I have a worry and-" She sighed. "As silly as this may sound, I wonder if you would listen to it."

_Well, this is certainly a switch. _Thought Entreri. Never had he been asked to listen in on the worries of another, and neither was the assassin sure that he wished to do so now. But he was extremely curious, for the lady looked nearly frightened. While she had always given off the impression that nothing could scare her, it was certainly not so now. What could it hurt to listen, after all?

Leaning against a nearby tree trunk, Entreri nodded. With that, Dusk gave a small bow of thanks. She turned her eyes back to the sky, sighed and quietly began to speak.

"At times I wonder if a spectacle like that star could reflect my own life. Perhaps I strive for accomplishments far beyond my reach. If that is so, I shall soon go down in a blaze of glory, in a passing that would do Faerun's greatest warriors proud… but had I the choice, I would rather not fall so quickly as that." Her brow furrowed momentarily, as though she sought the proper words. "I fear that in my arrogance I might forget my place in this world, bringing far too much attention to myself and thus foregoing all that must be done in the end. And though my name would spread the globe over, n'ere to be forgotten for what I tried to do, what good would come then?" The lady swallowed and finally turned to face Entreri once more.

"Tell me, assassin, am I a fool to attempt what I know that I must? Am I one of those stars doomed to fall, burning too brightly in life only plummet back to earth all too soon?"

Naught could be heard but crickets for a long few moments.

Why in the nine hells would the lady ask such a question? And of Artemis Entreri, at that? The 'why' made little sense to the man, but what she asked was easy enough to understand. She wanted to know if, in his opinion, she was strong enough both of body and mind to…

To do what exactly? The assassin's knowledge in this area was lacking as well. As far as he had been told, Dusk needed to see her adoptive father and obtain the whereabouts of…

Something. (Both Dusk and her brother Anton had only ever referred to what she sought as "It".) He knew that their unlikely band of four was to visit a man, but from the way Dusk was speaking now, it seemed that she had plans for something much bigger. Entreri frowned slightly. Indeed, his knowledge on what they were trying to do was severely lacking. If he did choose to answer the lady, he would need a bit more information.

"It is long past time for you to explain a few things to me." Entreri finally answered. "You have asked if I think you'll succeed while I have not an inkling of what you wish to do."

A trite laugh escaped the lady. "That isn't such an easy thing to explain, I fear. I know little more than you do and the rest is, unfortunately, heavily based upon lore. There my dear Marcellus will have answers for us." She sighed.

"But on the long and short of it, I am trying to save the world." Her brow crinkled in thought. "Or rather, _we _are trying to save _humanity. _That seems a little less insane, does it not?"

Entreri snorted at her. "Is humanity worth the trouble?"

What could be seen of the lady's face darkened considerably. For long moments she was quiet, staring off into the night sky. Finally, a small smirk lifted the corners of her lips.

"Were you worth the trouble, my friend?"

All expression fell from Entreri's face. The question Dusk had posed was not meant to harm, was not asked in insult... but still it stung the man profoundly. On occasion, he had wondered the same thing himself.

Suddenly, Dusk clapped him companiably on the shoulder. He focused his gaze upon the lady.

She laughed. The sound was off... tighter than usual. Perhaps, though Entreri held his face expressionless, Dusk had seen his odd mixture of pain and anger. Apparently, the lady didn't like what she saw.

But she mentioned it not; Entreri was pleased.

"Come and have a drink with me," Said the lady with a grin. "I shall tell you what I know."


	7. An Assassin's Introspection, Part One

_An Assassin's Introspection, Part One_

_We sat upon her balcony until the sun began to paint the sky with it's shifting color, passing between us a bottle of her strangely potent favorite drink. The lady told me much in those early morning hours… more than I had truly expected. But there was so much she neglected to tell me then. It was not until many months later that she filled in the gaps of her tale, one I thought very long and telling that particular night._

_She tells me now that, oddly enough, she was afraid. Afraid of what I might have done, had she told me then, and worried that she'd have driven me away. _

_First and foremost, though, she said something that nearly had frightened me off. The lady sat there a long time before she spoke, and I watched her, wondering why I was sitting there beside a creature so beautiful. I remember wanting to touch her face, not quite knowing why but knowing that she would have allowed me to. That worried me, and deeply. For it seemed that there was nothing she would not allow me, no dark mood or cross word she would not forgive as long as I stayed nearby._

_Because she needed me. _

_In that limbo crossing night and day she slipped her arm through mine and whispered; "I need you, Artemis." Simply that, before she pulled away again and fell into her explanation of what we were trying to do. _

_It startled me badly, that simple little phrase. I wanted to laugh, truly I did, for part of me wanted her to be joking. But she was not, and I knew it. She never called me by my name unless she was quite serious. I wanted to ask her why… after all, what could she possibly need from a man like me that she wasn't capable of herself… but one look at her face spoke volumes. She didn't know what she needed of me either; just that she did, and she wanted me to know._


	8. Once Upon a Time

Chapter 7: Once Upon a Time…

Many centuries ago a kingdom, known to precious few and seen by none, flourished. Its people were peaceful. They had long ago avowed themselves to never harm another sentient being unless absolutely necessary. Sometimes, not often but enough to note, it did become necessary for them to break their vow. To protect their secret home, only once… to save those few who knew of them and called them friends, twice more.

For the inhabitants of this kingdom were mighty. When they said 'this shall not be', the twisted faces of those deaths they wrought made certain that whatever wrong might have been done them did not happen again.

Upon the throne of this kingdom sat a lonely king. He wore not a crown but a pennant around his neck. (Not for any need to mark his station, for he needed no such trinket to do that.) Kind, just and impossibly old, this king loved his people dearly. But they brought him no joy. Having lost his queen in during the birth of their last child, his last joys were his children. A single daughter, two sets of twined boys and his youngest son kept their father's spirits high… until the very end.

Two, and only two, bodies were missing from the numbers of the dead when the kingdom fell.

The king's oldest child, his only daughter, returned home in haste from a visit to her lover, who was not of her people. While her kingdom stood intact, it was nearly completely devoid of life. Every plant, every animal, flower and being lay dead for miles around. She followed a single, feeble call through the city.

The call was the voice of her father.

The princess held the king's head as he lay dying. There was no mark on the king to tell what would momentarily end him, just as there were no marks on the bodies of any of the dead. In her grief, the princess hardly noticed that her father's pennant was missing.

Being the only one left alive, she bore his last words alone.

"Humankind has done a terrible deed today, my little love. But you must not cry for us! Cry for the humans, if you will, for they live now on your sufferance alone. Find the place where your brother has fallen… take my pennant from his body. It carries the rage and the pain, all the vengeance and power of your murdered people.

"When the time comes, my child, our curse will fall upon them. You may choose to do nothing, to simply let them die as we died. Or, should you find them worthy of your mercy, you may use the pennant to save them."

The tale goes on little further than that. What happened to cause the death of an entire race was lost to the ages.

It is said that the princess stayed with her father's body for days unnumbered, that she kissed him on the cheek one last time before curling up in his abandoned throne where she died of her grief.

But of course, as with any legend, there are always some parts that are overlooked in the retelling. This is especially true with a legend, like this one, that has been around for a very long time. With a story centuries old, can anyone know what really happened? Or if any such thing really happened at all? The answer will always be no.

Unless you happen to know someone who saw it firsthand.

* * *

Crickets sang loudly, perhaps in defiance to the rising sun that would send them to sleep for the day. Their song and that of the pre-dawn wind through the trees were the only sounds for some minutes.

Two people sat upon a balcony, a very large and very empty bottle sitting between them. They appeared to be watching the sunrise and enjoying the peace of the predawn hour. In truth, each was lost in their own silent contemplation (and three sheets to the wind), their thoughts unknowable.

'_Come and have _a _drink with me', she tells me._ Went the thought of one. _I will likely regret this in the morning…_

…well, the thoughts of one, at least were unknowable.

"It _is _morning," Answered the other. "And that is not a tale to be told by sober lips."

Artemis Entreri moved not a muscle but fixed the sky with a glare that would have stopped a charging rhinoceros in its tracks.

"Blast… my apologies." Whispered Dusk, for she truly hadn't meant to intrude upon the assassin's mind. There was no need for the man to even point the glare at her, so well did she know how he hated such intrusions.

She pointed an accusing finger at the empty bottle, then upturned the finger to the sky and shouted "So! Since the person charged with either saving or damning humankind is dead, I must take this talisman and..." She paused a moment, staring at nothing. "And try to forgive humanity on her behalf… try to save them."

The assassin turned to face her. Perhaps he meant to ask, once more, 'whatever for'? But he found that he didn't need to. The expression on the lady's face suggested that she was asking herself the same thing.

_What happened, lady? What did humankind do to _you_? _Entreri wondered. He may have wondered, but couldn't bring himself to ask. For truly, should he care? Eventually he asked;

"You are certain that this plague affecting so many people is the dying curse of a mythical king?"

The lady only nodded, still staring off into space.

Entreri stared at her awhile, wondering if he would receive anything more in answer. Apparently he would not. He might have said no more, but he had one final question. This one had been nagging at him since Dusk finished her tale.

Just after he met the lady, Entreri had found himself in an awkward position… one that had him, to this day, pretending to be engaged her. On that day he had asked if it would not be simpler for her to remove his presence from the minds of those who had seen him. After seeing what she could do with a seemingly simple song, he had believed that such would be an easy thing for her to do.

In answer, the lady told him that it would kill her to try.

After she had cured his sickness, Dusk was nearly as weak as the assassin himself had been. After she had mended the effects of the Hunter wizard's powder upon his eyes, the lady had, again, felt nearly as bad. All of this suddenly struck Entreri, and he at last realizedhow the lady's healing magic worked.

Some injuries she could actually heal; the lack of arrow wound in his shoulder was proof enough of that. But a wizard's cast gone awry? An incurable plague? Those things she just… took.

"You intend to take this talisman, then, and cure this plague spreading through humankind the globe over?" Entreri asked, twisting Dusk's phrase from earlier on in the night. "Can you do that?"

Finally, the lady looked at him.

"Will it kill me to try, you mean?" She responded.

This time, the assassin's dark and deadly glare hit its mark. But, once more, it needn't have. Entreri studied the woman's face. Her eyes were twinkling, holding both mirth and a warning… and she was grinning again. She had not, in fact, been poking around in his head.

Thequestion the assassin had just asked was the very one that had sparked this entire conversation. _Am I strong enough?_ Dusk had wondered. Perhaps all she had needed was for someone else to voice the question… but did she at last have the answer? Entreri eased back the glare and raised an eyebrow.

Now the lady truly smiled.

"I do not think that it will kill me." She shrugged her shoulders. "But then again, I could be entirely wrong. I know what the pennant _is_… what I am not entirely certain about is what it is meant to _do_. You see, the pennant is not, in itself, the final curse of a dying king. I believe that it was meant to be an _amplifier_ to the magic of the one who would use it. For this one task, this single choice left to the last of a now extinct people, that talisman is the key not to the curse itself but to the survival of its bearer."

Entreri stared at her. "And you intend to bear it, even though it was not meant for you?"

"You live and breathe, my friend. I already have borne it…" And with that, the true smile flew away. "Even though it was not meant for me. Are you now equipped to answer me this; do you think me such a fool to try?"

The assassin stood without a word.

The question was, as it had been before, a very uncomfortable one. Was it foolish for any one being to risk their life to save another? Perhaps. Would _he_, Artemis Entreri risk his life to save his race? Certainly he would not. But Dusk would, and the man wished he knew why! Clearly she was not human… perhaps only in part, if at all. Only moments ago it had been painted on her face clear as the encroaching daylight that humans –or perhaps only one human, could that be all it took?- had wronged the lady somehow. And yet she wanted to save them.

Still Entreri found that he could not answer her question properly. So he settled for the truth.

"I think that you are drunk." He answered at last. "Goodnight once more, Madam."

With a bow that was half stumble, the assassin left her sitting there and headed for bed.

"Artemis?"

Came the quiet call through the open balcony door half a heartbeat later. As always, the footfalls of Artemis Entreri made no sound. Dusk had no way of knowing whether or not he'd stopped at her call.

"Thank you." She whispered, knowing that if the man wanted to hear it, then hear it he would.

* * *

In silence and near complete darkness, a being watched the sunset. Brazen light from the last rays glinted against it's black eyes. As they were quickly swallowed up, the being smiled. It was a genuine expression of pleasure. If observed, though, any watcher would quickly scamper to a dark hole long away.

Something darkly amusing had occurred to this being. Nearly three hundred years had passed since the body it inhabited had seen the retreating sun.

As if in answer, the being's left cheek began to itch.

In certain reply, the being wiped the surface of it's scrying pool. The image of a rather lovely sunset rippled and disappeared.

With an absent brush of slender fingers, the being tossed it's dark chocolate curls back behind well-muscled shoulders. A tidy knot was formed at a motion.

There was messy work to be done.

One heavily booted foot tapped twice on the stone floor. A moment later, light knifed into the black once more. A small, smelly, goblin-like creature scurried up from a previously unseen hole across the room.

The being with eyes black as darkness itself tilted it's beautiful head to one side.

And the little thing summoned from below shrieked in fear. Quicker than could be thought from the goblinkin's shambling gait, the thing yanked the cover back over it's hole.

The light was gone. The master straightened it's head. The slave relaxed… a little.

"Come." Softly called the man-shaped being to it's servant. One hand reached for the creature, seemingly with care. It came, trembling, and tried not to fuss as master grabbed it by the skull. "You are a wretched creature, you understand that, do you not?"

The creature nodded gently. To say that it was terrified would be a gross understatement. But to dislodge the master's hand would mean sure, painful death.

"I will make you better." Promised the being with a smile. "I will… elevate you above all your fellows. Would this please you?"

At last, reeking creature truly relaxed. It grinned and nodded as empathetically as one could with their head in a vice. Master wanted to reward it!

Sadly, the creature didn't understand. While it stood smiling, practically radiating a fanatical sense of duty, it should have been asking questions. Questions along the lines of; 'Whatever for?' and; 'Could you please light a torch so that I might see that the smile on your face isn't at all funny?'

The being, towering over it's slave, closed it's startling eyes. Deceptively slender fingers gripped harder upon a hapless, slimy head. Beady, ever darting eyes rolled back into their sockets as if to run away from the horror they were seeing.

And the goblinkin screamed. The earsplitting keen went on for a long moment… until the creature's spindly little legs gave out. It collapsed, quite dead, onto the stone.

As it sat down beside the body, the being's undeniably fine lips cut an even wider smile.

"I shall send you a plaything, Old One. You will see to it that she enjoys it, I am certain." Came the flat, disturbing voice one last time.

The being went to work.

* * *

The wind, as Dusk put it, was getting sodding ridiculous. While the rain hadn't yet begun to fall, black skies loomed above and lightning crackled from cloud to cloud. Attempting to continue on or make camp with such a storm on its way would be foolish.

The odd band of four had been travelling five nights. Always they moved at sunset, stopping only when dawn's light took away the extra cover of darkness. Such a reversal from the norm might bother some… but not this bunch. After all, were a dark elf, an assassin, a vampire and an _extremely_ pale lady not better suited to the night?

Midnight had barely crept past. This sudden fall storm would waste half the night's travel, all four knew. And they had to –honestly had to- make a vampire lord's ball on the seventh night.

"I think a small detour is in order!" Shouted Dusk over the rising gale.

"One to some shelter, I should hope? This isn't the kind of storm to blow itself out in an hour!" The assassin hollered back.

Anton fell into step beside his sister, pulling his arm and cloak around the lady's shoulders so that he wouldn't have to shout to be heard.

"Where did you have in mind?" He asked as quietly as the wind would allow. "There are a few tribes of nomadic humans with shelters in these woods, but I am certain they would turn aside a party carrying both a vampire and a dark elf."

"Arkingthade will mind neither you nor Jarlaxle." She replied.

To that, Anton growled quietly. "I figured you might be thinking such. You trust them both enough to lead them to the lair of Arkingthade?" He asked, inclining his head toward the other two members of their small group.

Dusk smiled grimly. "The old beast can care for himself, should it come to that. But I do not believe it will."

She patted her brother on the arm and turned away.

"Stop here a moment! Gather close at my back, but touch me not." The lady instructed her companions.

She reached down the side of her breeches, to where she had a tiny pouch strapped to one leg. From this pouch Dusk retrieved something she'd hoped not to need. She held what would at first appear to be a pool of shimmering blue liquid, which of course, it was not. The lady made a fist and held it out before her. Turning in a circle, she whispered a name. As she turned south and east, Dusk came to a sudden stop.

She smiled… and then the forest erupted, following the line of her outstretched fist.

Trees, bushes, grass and even a small creek parted violently sideways for nearly a mile forward of where the party stood. Dusk slipped the tiny trinket back into it's pouch.

Anton stepped by, nonplussed by the display and shaking his head. Entreri stood back to stare warily at the back of the lady's head.

"What did—" Jarlaxle begin to ask, but Dusk silenced him with a look and a hand an inch from his lips.

"Don't ask. Just run, before we lose the path." The drow reached to take the hand in front of his face. She jumped back, turned away and called over her shoulder as she ran; "And whatever you do, do not touch me until we reach the door!"

Running as fast as her legs could carry her (which wasn't as fast as she might have liked), the lady silently reached out for the beast living behind the distant door.

"_Awake, old man! I beg shelter for myself and three companions. I forthwith take full responsibility for the actions of my men and swear they will bring you no harm!" _She cried out with her mind.

She could only hope that the call was heard, for there came no response. Worrisome, that.

Worse still, the hidden door was still out of reach. And the forest had begun slipping back into place. She wouldn't make it, the lady knew, and looked back to her companions. All three were keeping pace but still well away. Did they believe it had to be Dusk who reached the door? In a moment they would lose the path!

"Blast it, _someone_get to the damned door!" Bellowed the lady in sheer desperation.

Thunder boomed. Not twenty paces away, a bolt of lightning split one of the fast closing trees in half. The wind howled against them.

"_Arkingthade, please! I cannot…"_

The lady started to call out once more. She was startled from the thought by a barely visible form barreling past.

Half ethereal, impossibly quick on even his worst days, Artemis Entreri ran on. He reached the door. Still, there was a problem. Locked doors were never a problem for him, however this one had no latch, nor even so much as a handle.

"I cannot open it!" Hollered the assassin over the wind.

"You only have to touch it! Quickly!" Answered the lady.

…also a problem. The man looked down at, aha, pardon, _through_ his hands and growled. The forest had righted itself. The hidden door was quite visibly fading into the hillside once more. Entreri railed his fist into the stone anyway. Once it went straight through. He snarled, willing whatever shade magic he had within to answer his command. Twice, and the same again. On the third hard strike upon the stone, his fist at last landed solidly.

* * *

What appeared to be an old man stirred from his cross-legged position on an onyx floor. Someone had come knocking. _No one_ had come knocking upon his door in nearly thirty years. He ignored it, passively annoyed… until he heard a familiar telepathic call.

"Ah… hello child."

This old man's voice boomed. It echoed off the walls, shaking the entire room. His startled serving boy threw open the door. The boy opened his mouth to speak.

"I know." Whispered the man ever so carefully.

He pulled from his sapphire silk robe a small handkerchief. Taking a deep breath (deeper than one might think, coming from so ancient a form), he blew into the cloth. A sizeable ball of ice grew there. He wrapped the thing carefully in the cloth and handed it to the boy.

"Give this to the Lady," he whispered. "For her head."

* * *

And then came Dusk, throwing her entire weight into the door.

Which had, unfortunately, already begun to open at the assassin's touch. The lady landed flat on her back on the hard black stone within. Anton and Jarlaxle followed more carefully. The vampire went at once to his sister, who gently waved him away. Last came Entreri, who crossed his arms over his chest in clear annoyance.

"Ouch." Grumbled the lady. "Good trick, that. How did you do it?" She questioned the assassin.

"Were you to explain how you manage to steal my clothes while I sleep, I might tell you." He chuckled darkly. "I thought you faster than that."

"Quick on my feet, yes." She quipped back, taking the offered hand of Jarlaxle to get to said feet. "But I never once said I was a sprinter."

Entreri turned away to examine their surroundings. At her elbow, her drow friend leaned over to whisper in Dusk's ear.

"You stole his clothes?" Asked the elf. When he received only a snicker in reply, the elf continued. "Sweetling, it's a terrible idea to annoy that one without purpose. I really have no wish for you to kill the man."

The lady flicked him on the ear. "I did it because it was funny, that's purpose enough. I'd have stolen yours, but as I don't know whose floor they've been on lately…"

A silken sound that was half a quiet snarl cut off any further banter. Anything that might have been making a sound, for that matter, quieted. Crickets wouldn't dare chirp, had they heard Charon's Claw being drawn.

An inch above the red blade held (thankfully) ever so steady in Artemis Entreri's capable hand bobbed an adam's apple. It belonged to a boy… apparently. Not a one, even Anton with his too sharp vampire ears, had heard him enter. The boy stood very, very still and seemed far too calm for one in his position.

"Artemis, please…" Whispered a shaken Dusk.

Entreri flicked his grey eyes toward her. The lady stood rigid as stone, one hand hovering above his wrist, her eyes wide. Whoever this boy might be, the assassin was surprised to find, he was someone even his frightless companion didn't want to anger.

Slowly, carefully and with as little movement as possible, he sheathed the deadly blade.

Quicker than could be followed, the lady stepped between man and boy.

"Hello, old man." She swallowed. "Behind me stands Artemis Entreri. And behind him, Jarlaxle Baenre." Jarlaxle merely shrugged when an incredulous grey glare flicked back at him. "And to my right, only because he is a fool who cares for me more than he should, is my adopted brother Anton Serril. And no, you cannot eat them."

Only when the passive face before her broke into a smile did Dusk dare to breathe.

The boy who seemed so much more looked suddenly sheepish.

"Here," He said, and handed the lady a small orb wrapped in blue silk. "My master bade me give it to you, for your head."

She blinked at the boy, her face a mask of confusion.

"Parthos?" Breathed the lady.

"Yes madam." Came the answer with a half embarrassed grin and a bow.

"Parthos?!" She asked more urgently.

"Still me, madam."

The boy called Parthos yelped, because Dusk had grabbed him by the chin and forcibly hauled him up from his low bow. Those icy blue eyes, so calm not a moment ago, now shined with fear. The lady stared into his eyes, into him. Whatever respectful care, nay, worry she held in facing this boy had flown. Something was very wrong, indeed.

A motion from Entreri sent Jarlaxle back against the door. Wisely, the assassin stepped as far away as he might. The image of a Hunter wizard being telekinetically bounced off walls kept poking him in the back of his head.

Only Anton, and only he because he knew the situation better, dared stand beside the woman. He carefully placed a hand upon her shoulder.

"Sister?" Inquired the vampire. "What has happened?"

Staring emerald eyes closed. The lady sighed. Ever so gently, she let Parthos down from his tiptoes. She took the time to fix the boy's skewed collar and patted him on the cheek.

"Pardon me, boy. I had to know for certain."

Without even waiting for the boy's nod, nor taking a moment to say a word to her companions, Dusk stalked heavily down one onyx hall.

"Well…" Piped up the unusually quiet Jarlaxle. "We're out of the storm, that's good news. The way her ladyship is moving, I do have to tell you, really _isn't _such good news. I would hate to be the object of her current mood."

"You should stop her, then." Mumbled the assassin.

His posture and tone indicated clearly that he had no wish to stand in the lady's way… or rather, he had no wish to stand between her and Parthos' master. Something was bothering him about the way Dusk had stood between he and Parthos. As if she were trying to shield Entreri from the boy, rather than the other way around.

Anton peered from one face to the next, finding no help in any of them.

"Sister?" He called, his usually steady voice sounding worried. "What is happening, my dear?"

"I am going to kick his big, scaly ass! _That_ is what is happening, Little Brother!" Came the answering bellow.

"Oh, shit."

Dusk's vampiric twin started off after his sister without another word.

Parthos, still standing behind with his mouth hanging open, nearly jumped out of his skin to find one black arm slung over his shoulder. He turned his head to meet the grinning face of Jarlaxle.

"Well my boy!" Laughed the drow. "Shall we go and watch?"

Only a shocked stare answered. Which only made the elf laugh all the harder. He started walking after Anton, Parthos in reluctant tow.

"Coming, my friend?" Called the seemingly mad dark elf over his shoulder.

Artemis Entreri merely shook his head. Always, it seemed. There always had to be _something _with Jarlaxle. And now with Dusk as well…

He sighed. Well, at least he wasn't bored. The assassin caught up with the dark elf and frightened boy, mumbling; "Coming _behind _you, yes."

* * *

Upon a floor hewn from the finest onyx sat an impossibly old man. The lines upon his pale, leathery face had lines upon them. His veins stood out like old rope, hard and dark, upon an alarmingly thin frame.

One leg crossed over the other, he sat as one meditating might… and so he had been, for the past decade and a half.

Easily he could have been passed over as a corpse, until he took a breath. Which he seldom did. He did so now, breathing a deep sigh. It caused the waters of the wide stone pool before him to ripple as if blown by strong winds. Ice crystals crackled across these ripples, freezing them in place momentarily. His slowly thundering heart quickened, ever so slightly.

_At last._ Thought the old man. _You are late, little one. So very late…_

One rail thin arm reached forward, fingers outstretched, toward a black door across the pool. It opened with barely a whisper not a second before it would have been telekinetically ripped from it's hinges.

On the other side of the threshold, with a look as black as the stone itself, the lady Dusk slowly dropped her hand back to her side. She regarded the old man for a moment, her head cocked to one side as if awaiting an explanation. When none came, she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Arkingthade," Began the lady, in tones of one creeping toward the edge of patience. "_Why_ are you _still_ in that ratty old thing?"

The old man merely grinned.


	9. Hello, all!

Good evening, folks!

While I am currently stuck –not writer's block stuck, more along the lines of "how to get the pictures in my head into words" stuck- I'd like to ask for a little feedback, if I may.

I know that over the (many) years I've been writing this thing, my writing style has shifted slightly. Does it still flow well all together? It's very hard to tell, looking at it from my angle.

There are a few swear words in now, and slight suggestion of naughty-ness coming up. I don't expect I'll have to bump the rating up. Where we stand now, I would let my teenager read this, if I had one. If it ever gets too bad for "T", please mention it. I'd hate to offend anyone.

And would someone do me the favor of letting me know if it gets to be almost like a bad movie? You know… got the ending figured out five minutes in and it's awful, that kind of thing.

Any thoughts you have the time to and feel like sending my way would be well appreciated. (Besides "go faster". I know, I'm working at a snail's pace here. :)

Thanks so much for reading! It tickles me pink to know that someone is still keeping an eye on my monster baby.

-**D.**

*Edit: There's a disjointed piece of this tale I've had hanging around forever… been itching to connect it. Very close, but not quite there, you know? I wanted to throw out a warning incase I manage to get something out before the morning comes; warning being, I am very, very drunk. 8) If I get a bit out tonight, please pardon me if it ends up a little silly. -4/6/13-


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